


Nothing's Ever Built To Last (you're in ruins)

by Madd4the24



Series: Calamity, Kindness and Clinics [2]
Category: Kpop - Fandom, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Angst, Betrayal, Boys Being Boys, Character Death, Chronic Illness, Complicated Relationships, Doctor Kim Seokjin | Jin, Drama, Established Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin, Family Feels, Gang Leader Kim Namjoon | RM, Gang Violence, Gang politics, Grieving, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, Jeon Jungkook is a Little Shit, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope Is Whipped, Kidnapping, Kim Namjoon | RM & Min Yoongi | Suga Are Best Friends, Kim Seokjin | Jin is So Done, Kim Taehyung | V Is a Sweetheart, M/M, Medical Conditions, Mild Language, Min Yoongi | Suga Is a Good Friend, Park Jimin Is Bad at Feelings, Platonic Relationships, Protective Siblings, Revenge, Romance, Underage Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2019-06-26 09:12:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 46
Words: 324,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15660183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madd4the24/pseuds/Madd4the24
Summary: For Seokjin, the rules for surviving in a post Infinite era were simple: expand the clinic’s services, keep his wayward brother Jungkook in school and out of too much trouble, and have faith in the alliance between Bangtan and Exo, but more importantly, in Namjoon. However, with core members of Infinite still unaccounted for, and new players entering the game, peace once more, seems impossible. Especially when it becomes clear there’s a traitor in the ranks.But this time, Seokjin’s failing heart might truly kill him first.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, for anyone who has stumbled upon this fic accidentally, please note that this is the second story in the series. While technically you could read this story without having finished the first, you'd probably end up completely lost, and the full impact of the events unfolding would meant little to nothing. So my advice? Go read that first. It's kind of a monster, but if you're interested in this one, you'll need that one for any of this to matter.
> 
> To the rest of you, my lovely readers who managed to survive the first story, and the hiatus between that one and this, thank you so much for sticking with me, and for being supportive and wonderful and just being amazing people. You know how much I appreciate you all. This is the second part to one big story I've been telling for a while, and I'm so happy to finish it with you!
> 
> So before we get started, let me throw in the typical warning here. This is a story about morally gray characters. We have our perceived heroes, but everyone does questionable things in this, and right and wrong is only a matter of perspective. So expect to find violence in here, and language, and situations that might make some readers a bit uncomfortable. There's nothing overly explicit in here, and I don't think I hit any of the more mainstream triggers, but proceed with caution if you're a bit more sensitive than the average reader.
> 
> Also, please take note of the listed warnings. This is the second part of a story. It's the conclusion, and people gonna die. To avoid any confusion or dissatisfaction, I'm being really upfront about that now, along with the fact that I consider all my characters to be main characters, regardless of how much of a role they play in the story. So if a name is listed up there in the character tags, they're fair game.  
> Mostly I just want to say welcome aboard to all you readers who've been with me from chapter one of the previous story, or are just now catching up. I'm happy to have you for this wild ride, and you'd better be in it for the long haul, because this bad boy tops out at 356K+ and we're gonna be here for a while.
> 
> As always, chapters update every Sunday morning PST!

The flow of cold air via the air condition was cascading down on Seokjin in a heavenly way, and he was unashamed to be half blocking one of the main hallways, soaking it all in. The nurses were probably giggling at the sight he made, or the receptionist might be snapping pictures of him—Yoona seemed to be a master at stockpiling blackmail material on him. But Seokjin blocked it all out. All that mattered was that he’d just come from outside, from a luncheon that had been more business than pleasure, and because of that, he’d spent an hour and a half sitting on a veranda in hundred-degree weather, arguing for the clinic’s consideration via a private donation.

So now he was inside, enjoying his clinic’s air conditioner, taking a moment to himself before he had to launch into his afternoon appointments.

“Jiiinnnnnnn!”

He was also doing his best to block out the sound of Hoseok’s voice.

“Stooppppp ignoring meeeee!”

Seokjin cracked an eye open, peering over at the younger man. “You’re so lucky I even let you back here. I could make Jonghyun manhandle you out the front door at any second.”

Hoseok rocked back on his feet with a wide smile, and then he flicked the visitor’s badge that was currently clipped to his shirt. “Nah, come on, Jin. I’ve got a special badge, see? You gave it to me. That means I get to come back here.”

Back to the employee area of the clinic, he meant, and it was true Seokjin had been the one to give him the badge. Of course, by now all of Bangtan’s core members, and even the more trusted fringe members who had endeared themselves to Seokjin over time, had badges. And even if they didn’t, Namjoon and Hoseok and all the others, especially Jungkook, came around more than often enough for everyone who worked there, and even some of the patients, to know exactly who they were.

No one was going to manhandle Hoseok out the door. Especially Jonghyun, who rather liked Hoseok and the other boys, and who snuck pieces of candy meant for the children, to Taehyung every time he visited.

“That badge can be revoked,” Seokjin told him bluntly, but it was just a bluff.

“You wouldn’t,” Hoseok declared confidently. “Now come on, I came all the way down here to talk to you. Help me. Please. Help me Kim Seokjin, you’re my only hope.”

The air conditioner still felt good against his sweat sticky skin, but enough was enough, and it was something of note that Hoseok was standing in front of him. Hoseok’s responsibilities in Bangtan had all but skyrocketed the moment the expansion of territory had happened, and as a result, Seokjin saw less and less of the man. And if anyone was coming by to pick Seokjin up after work, like frequently occurred, it was typically Taehyung.

Seokjin had put a stop to Jungkook’s incessant need to be the one to pick him up from the clinic the moment his little brother’s classes had gotten intense at the university. Jungkook, for all his hesitation in going to college, was flourishing at the institution. He was even showing promise in his required mathematics and science classes. Neither did Jungkook want to admit, but he was picking up Mandarin at a rapid pace.

Maybe Jungkook would get bored with college soon enough. Or maybe he’d finish the music classes he was most focused on, and not sign up for another semester. But for the time being. Seokjin thought it was enough that Jungkook was balancing school and Bangtan. He didn’t want Jungkook having to worry about transportation duties. Especially since Seokjin still had his father’s car. Part of him had been completely unable to part with it, and he wondered if he ever would.

Plus, if he really wanted anyone picking him up, he wanted Namjoon.

Namjoon.

Seokjin didn’t think there was a proper or right way to actually explain how full his heart felt, just thinking about his boyfriend. Namjoon had become impossibly important to him in the time they’d been together, and even love felt like an understatement.

Namjoon was the one. They joked about it all the time—Namjoon joked about having known Seokjin was the one for him from the start. But now Seokjin was starting to really feel and understand it. He wanted to grow old with Namjoon, and have children with him, and do everything in between.

Mostly he just wanted Namjoon to have time for him currently. But he’d already decided he wasn’t going to get himself worked up over the canceled dates and sad apologies. Namjoon constantly understood when Seokjin had to put his clinic and patients first. So now it was Seokjin’s turn to understand and accept that Bangtan was still in the middle of a transitional period, and that was eating up all of Namjoon’s time.

It wouldn’t always be the way it was now, and Seokjin clung to that.

“Jin? Seokjin? Doctor Jin?”

“Sorry,” Seokjin apologized to an unsure looking Hoseok. “How about we go back to my office? I’ve got some time for you, if you need it.”

Suddenly Hoseok looked desperate now, and he practically wheezed out, “Oh, I need it.”

Seokjin’s private office was located at the far end of the first floor, the furthest room from the front reception area, the waiting rooms, and the examination rooms. Seokjin had picked the office on purpose, and had held his breath for the room even after he’d let Jonghyun go first when the selection time came. Seokjin had wanted a room that was secluded in a lot of ways, private, and quiet.

“Come on it,” Seokjin said when they reached the office. He pushed open the door and held it until Hoseok was inside.

“Wow.”

Seokjin smiled at him. “First time in?” There were plenty of reasons or Bangtan’s members to be in and out of the clinic at all times of the day, but only a few of them had been back to his office, or had needed to.

Jonghyun had partially put a ban on it, too. At least as far as Namjoon was concerned. But Seokjin thought that was rather hypocritical. Seokjin had caught Jonghyun and Kibum more than once on clinic grounds, enjoying each other’s company, to say the least. But the one time Jonghyun had walked in on Namjoon and Seokjin, suddenly there’d been a new rule.

“Hypocrite,” Seokjin had murmured to Jonghyun after he’d agreed that there’d be no hijinks in the clinic of any kind, during normal operating hours.

Jonghyun had laughed back, “I’m a traumatized hypocrite, then. Jesus, Seokjin, you’re like my little brother at this point. And no one wants to see their little brother getting hot and heavy with his boyfriend. I’ll sacrifice having Key here if it means guaranteeing I’ll miss that.”

A little wide eyed, Hoseok walked the edge of the office, admiring the awards and pictures that spanned the shelves. “This is so cool.”

Seokjin gestured to a corner of the office that boasted an impressive number of photos of Seokjin himself, all of them with babies in his arms. He explained, “These are my favorite pictures. These are my kids.”

Hoseok looked from the pictures to Seokjin. “Not biologically, right?”

“No,” Seokjin assured. “But I call them mine because I delivered them all. All these babies. And half of them are named after me.”

“Cool,” Hoseok repeated again. Then he dragged himself away from the decorations in the office, to one of the two plush chairs that were situated in front of Seokjin’s mammoth desk. “Now, help me.”

“With what?” Seokjin sat in his own chair, sinking into the plushness of it. The screen saver on the computer atop the desk was going, but he knew if he nudged the mouse even a little the previous quarter’s reports would be glaring back at him, reminding him that all the information needed to be consolidated for the upcoming staff meeting.

He did his best not the nudge the mouse in any way.

“Jin,” Hoseok started, “you’re a really good boyfriend, right? I mean, you seem like it.”

Seokjin felt his eyebrows climb high on his forehead. “This is not the direction I expected the conversation to go.”

Hoseok seemed to ignore his comment, and pressed on, “So in light of you being a really good boyfriend, I need your opinion. Your advice. I want you to help me decide what to do for mine and Tae’s upcoming anniversary.”

Seokjin couldn’t help leaning forward at that. “Your anniversary?” The notion was so sweet, and it served to remind Seokjin that for as inconspicuous as Hoseok and Taehyung kept their relationship, they very much had one.

And a healthy one at that. Seokjin was constantly surprised by the amount of affection and respect they showed to each other. They were considerate to each other, even when they didn’t agree, and each of them seemed to go out of their way to do special, nice things for the other. Seokjin had seen a lot of relationships in his life, but few of them measured up the way that Taehyung and Hoseok’s did.

His own and Namjoon’s, notwithstanding.

Hoseok held up two fingers. “Next month it’ll be two years for us.” He huffed a little. “Coulda been longer, you know.”

“No.” Seokjin shook his head. “How so?”

“Tae never told you?” Hosoek looked surprised. “Tae loves to tell people this.”

This was a nice and welcomed distraction, Seokjin decided. He’d been inundated as of late with all kinds of new problems to handle, ones that the clinic had never faced before, and his stress levels were building. He was starting to feel overworked again, even though they’d added two new doctors to the roster, and another nurse, not to mention a handful of interns.

So just sitting and talking with a friend, was nice. He didn’t sit and talk with Hoseok enough.

Wringing his hands together, Hoseok allowed, “I might have been … a little … dumb when I was younger. A little. Just a little.”

Seokjin arched a skeptical eyebrow.

“Apparently,” Hoseok rushed out, “Taehyung was sending me signals and messages he liked me for ages before I got clued in. I mean, really obvious messages. He kept saying how nice he thought I was, and how handsome. He asked me out to lunch a couple times. He wanted to meet my family. He …look, the point is, I thought he was just a really nice guy. Taehyung’s always had a reputation of being really nice—authentic in a way that most people aren’t.”

Seokjin bit back a laugh. “So, Taehyung was practically coming onto you, and you thought he was just being nice?”

A hint of sadness crept its way onto Hoseok’s face, something devastating in a way, and then Hoseok offered up, “Sure I did. It’s Taehyung, you know? He’s super-hot, and charming and funny. He’s generous and just awesome. He’s got a good reputation for a reason. So even if I thought for a second that he was into me, I talked myself out of that right away. I told myself, how could someone like Taehyung, ever be into someone like me? I denied. I put distance between us. I kind of was a jerk about it.”

Seokjin leaned his elbows up on the top of his desk and said firmly, “Don’t talk down about yourself, Hoseok. Don’t put yourself down.”

Hoseok avoided his gaze as he said, “I’m not saying I’m worthless or anything. Come on, Jin, give me some credit. I’m just saying back then I looked at myself and saw someone pathetically ordinary. Then I looked at Taehyung, who was everything better than what I was, and I just didn’t see a chance in hell.”

“Obviously Taehyung felt differently.”

A small smile pulled at Hoseok’s mouth. “Taehyung has a way of seeing stuff in people that they don’t see in themselves. You’ve got that thing, too, kinda. You see the best in people. You see the second chances they deserve. Taehyung just sees the traits and qualities in people that have always been there, but that maybe need a little rubbing to make shine.”

In a delighted way, Seokjin wanted to know, “What clued you in that Taehyung had a thing for you?”

Hoseok blushed a dark red and he looked so cute Seokjin wanted to tease him.

“Come on,” Seokjin prodded. “How’d you finally get it?”

“I didn’t.” There was a fuller smile on Hoseok’s face now. “Tae was out on a date with another guy, and they were going to the movies. I used to work at the movie theater. And you know, Tae tells this way, way better than me, but I guess Taehyung just figured enough was enough. He left his date sitting in the theater, with the movie going, and marched right up to me at the concession stand. He told me honestly that he liked me. He said he wanted to know if I liked him—romantically. And when I said yes, he grabbed me by the front of my shirt and kissed me.”

“In front of everyone,” Seokjin surmised.

“I got fired,” Hoseok said with a shrug. “I hated that job anyway. And Tae’s worth it. He’ll always be worth it.”

In a lot of ways, Hoseok’s words were startling. They served to remind Seokjin that Bangtan hadn’t really been around all that long. At least not in the version that it was now. Compared to some of the other groups, Bangtan was practically newborn. Namjoon had been doing his best to put together the components that would become Bangtan for years, and Yoongi had been there with him from practically the start. But it hadn’t been that long ago that people like Hoseok and Taehyung were just normal kids.

“That’s pretty adorable,” Seokjin said. It was the kind of story that was made for telling one’s grandchildren on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Though Seokjin was certainly not going to be telling his own grandchildren that he’d met his future husband after said man had been shot. Seokjin didn’t think that was appropriate at all for children.

“So, you want my help with planning a good anniversary?”

Hoseok gave a strong nod. “It has to be something really, really good, okay? This is Taehyung we’re taking about. So, I want to go somewhere. I want to take him somewhere.”

Seokjin questioned, “Like on vacation? Is this a good time for that?”

“Well, yeah.” Hoseok looked confident in his answer—more confident than Seokjin felt. And he elaborated, “I’ve been pretty hands on with everything over the past few months, and it’s all going as smoothly as possible. I mean, there’s been hiccups here and there, and when you’re dealing with people it can always get a little rough. But things seem like they’re good to go. I talked to Suga about this already. He said if I want to take Tae somewhere, now’s a good time.”

Seokjin laced his fingers and nodded. Yoongi’s decision on something was almost as iron clad as Namjoon.

Still, he was a little surprised. Even with things going as well as possible, there was still a tenseness floating around in the air. Things with Infinite still seemed so raw and fresh, and it wasn’t as if everyone in that gang had been dealt with.

Seokjin still had nightmares of Sunggyu, standing in the kitchen, blowing his own brains out. But he had even worse nightmares of the members of Infinite who’d slipped away, and the people out there who still might be holding grudges against Bangtan for being the upstarts that they were. Bangtan was dominating in a lot of ways, and that kind of dominance so early in life bred dissent.

Neither was Seokjin even attempting to hide who Namjoon was to him, in the same way Namjoon and the others had stopped hiding behind their names. In a lot of ways, the secrecy had become impossible, but in others, it had been a deliberate move of transparency.

Most of the time now Seokjin could go a whole day without seeing anyone of significant rank in Bangtan lurking around.  But others he could have his every move watched, and it was all out of uncertainty.

Bringing himself back to the situation at hand, Seokjin asked, “How far do you want to go? Do you want to stay in South Korea?”

Anxiety was back on Hoseok’s face, and he offered up delicately, “I don’t have a lot of money. I want to take Tae somewhere special, somewhere great, but I’m working on a budget.”

Seokjin realized he didn’t really know a lot about Hoseok. Well, he knew who Hoseok was as a person, but his information on Hoseok stopped there. He didn’t know anything about Hoseok’s childhood, or his family, or anything outside of the scope of Bangtan. And that made him sad, because Seokjin considered Hoseok to be a good friend.

Seokjin tapped his fingers along the top of his desk.

Hoseok added, “I mean this in a good way, you know? But you’re used to working with pretty much no money. Because of the clinic. You’re really good at being innovative and creative with the budget you have. That’s why I think you’re the perfect person to help me figure something out for Tae.”

Suddenly Seokjin felt invested in making sure Taehyung and Hoseok had a great second anniversary. There’d been there for him through the worst of it. They’d risked their lives for him. They deserved something great.

“Like maybe something near the beach?” Hoseok posed. “Tae loves the ocean, but we practically never get to go. So, if I could take him to the ocean for a couple of days, that would be great. Just, we gotta keep in mind, renting a place near the water is really expensive.”

Seokjin frowned for a moment, then suggested, “I have an uncle, Hoseok. My father’s older brother. I reconnected with him at my father’s funeral, and I’ve been talking with him frequently since then.”

Confused, Hoseok offered up, “Okay …”

Of course Hoseok didn’t know what he was getting at. With a sigh, Seokjin made to clear up, “He’s pretty much everything my father ever wanted Jungkook and I to be. He’s an investment banker, and he’s partnered with a practice that’s based out of Tokyo. So he’s practically never in the country. In fact, he won’t be for the next three or four months—maybe not until the Christmas holiday.”

Hoseok went to say something, but Seokjin held up a finger.

“The last time I talked to him, he thought I needed to take a break from the clinic. To take a vacation. And that’s rich, of course, coming from him. He’s a huge workaholic. Anyway, my point here is, he wanted me to take Jungkook and go stay at his vacation house in Jeju. Honestly, Hoseok, if I vouch for you, I don’t think he’d had a problem with you and Taehyung using it for a week or so.”

Hoseok’s jaw dropped.

“I’ll give him a call this afternoon,” Seokjin decided. “If you can handle getting yourself and Tae there, then the place is yours. Trust me, my uncle won’t care. The house practically sits empty the whole year round. My uncle bought the property for a wife that he’s been divorced from for a decade now.”

Uncertain, Hoseok asked, “You think that would be okay?”

“I promise,” Seokjin said, and he was more than confident. His uncle had practically been clinging to him since Seokjin’s father had passed, and that had given Seokjin a lot of insight. He hadn’t known it, but his father and uncle had been quite close. His father had told Seokjin’s uncle he was dying long before he’d told anyone else. And if anything good was coming from Seokjin’s father passing away, it was that the rest of the family was pulling in tight. Seokjin had been getting calls from aunts and uncles, cousins, and everything in-between, for months now.

Hoseok suggested, “We could take the train. There’s a line that runs the length of the coast down to the south, and then there’s a ferry that runs out to Jeju Island.”

“It’s beautiful this time of year,” Seokjin added. “If you go, you’ll have a great time.”

Seokjin could physically see the relief flooding Hoseok’s body.

He warned, “You’re still responsible for making it special, Hoseok. Only you can do that. But if I can help you out like this, then the place is yours for the week you choose. Just let me know the dates so I can relay it to my uncle and get the code for the alarm system for you.”

Seokjin had barely gotten to his feet before Hoseok rounded the desk and swept him up into a big hug.

“Thank you,” Hoseok practically shouted into his ear. “Thank you, Jin!”

“You’re welcome.” Jin hugged him back tightly. “You and Taehyung did so much for me, and you’re still doing so much for Jungkook. So, think of this as me trying to repay that to you.”

Hoseok scoffed and drew back, “This isn’t us squaring things away, Jin. You and Jungkook are family. Family just does for each other. No debts, okay?”

“No debts,” Seokjin echoed.

Hoseok was rounding back to his seat when a knock sounded on the door to Seokjin’s office.

Joy’s head poked in a moment later, and Seokjin offered her a full and encouraging smile. She’d only been working at the clinic for a few short months, and she was one of the new hires that had come on after they’d moved locations. But she was a quirky and fun receptionist, always on time, and always kind. She’d come highly recommended by the clinic’s new OBGYN.

“Just your friendly reminder,” Joy said cheerfully enough, giving Hoseok respectful acknowledgment. Although Seokjin didn’t think they’d ever had any real interaction before. But there wasn’t anyone who worked at the clinic now who didn’t know Bangtan’s tie to the clinic, or Seokjin’s tie to Bangtan. “Yoona sent me to remind you that you’ve got a two o’clock consult in less than twenty minutes, and you’re booked for three hours of walk-ins after that.”

Seokjin sighed. “I remember. It’s in my calendar.”

Joy brightened even further. “Yoona also said to let you know that she knows you haven’t been using your google calendar. She has administrative access to it, and she can see whenever you log in and look at it or make changes. She wants you to practice being a better liar. Or, you know, start using your calendar.”

Hoseok let out a long whistle. “Vicious.” He pointed to Joy and told Seokjin, “I like this girl.”

“You’re taken,” Seokjin reminded. Then he swung back to Joy and promised, “I’ll start using the calendar, okay? And kindly remind Yoona that not only do I sign her paychecks, but I dictate her hours.”

Joy laughed a little. “Will do, boss. Oh, and you’ve got a final draft of the flyer for the community social and fundraiser we’re hosting at the end of the month in your inbox. You need to give your ultimate okay on it, so we can start mass printing and get them out into circulation.”

She was gone a second after that, and Hoseok careened towards Seokjin to ask, “Is that your personal assistant?”

“No,” Seokjin denied right away. “She’s a receptionist who’s basically doubling as a general secretary.” He frowned. “Do you think I need one?” He was just a doctor. Doctors didn’t need secretaries. Then again, he was doing the bulk of the clinic’s administrative business. And as they expanded, it took up more and more of his time.

Hoseok only laughed. “I don’t know. But what’s this social thing?”

“Social and fundraiser,” Seokjin corrected. “It’s a big party, honestly, that the clinic is hosting in a couple of weeks. We’re going to shut down for the day and host a big event for the community based on the services we offer. We’re going to do some educational things, some informative things, hopefully raise some money, and try to get the community a lot more involved. We’re hoping a lot of kids will be there and they’ll get to know the doctors here, so they’ll be less scared when they have to come and visit us.”

“That’s pretty neat,” Hoseok observed. “See, this is what everyone is always talking about, Jin. You’re such an awesome doctor.”

Seokjin tried to brush off the praise by saying, “I’m kind of hoping members of Bangtan will be there, discretely, of course. It would be really nice if you guys could mingle in with the general public. A lot of people are still completely traumatized by what happened with Infinite, and the territory shakeup, and honestly, I don’t always get good feedback in the comment box when you guys come around.”

Something that looked a lot of disgruntled offense settled on Hoseok’s face. “Excuse me?”

“I just want,” Seokjin interjected, “everyone to feel comfortable with everyone, and for tensions and nerves to cool down, and for people to feel comfortable coming here.”  He added quickly, “Yoongi said he’s going to bring his sister. You should feel free to bring any siblings or cousins.”

Again, Seokjin realized he didn’t know enough about Hoseok to personally invite anyone. Hoseok didn’t seem put off, however, when he said, “I’ve got three kid sisters. Well, Sowon is sixteen, so she’d probably bean me in the head if I called her a kid. But the other two are still little. How about I bring them?”

Three sisters? In that moment, Seokjin decided that his lack of knowledge about his friends and their lives wasn’t going to stand. He was going to be a better friend to them all, and he was going to start with Hoseok.

“I’ll get you a flyer, okay?” Seokjin promised.

It was nice that for some time after, Seokjin got to simply sit with Hoseok and chat with him. They weren’t talking about anything important, or anything business related. They were able to just pass the time easily, with laughter and comradery, and it was what Seokjin needed to reenergize himself.

“I appreciate you coming down here,” Seokjin said when they were leaving his office.

“What?” Hoseok asked. “I appreciate you. You’re the one doing some nice stuff for me and Tae. I’m the one who came down here to bother you on your break.”

Seokjin gave him an honest look. “You’re never a bother, Hoseok. You’re family, right? That’s what you and the others are always saying.” Bangtan was a family. Never more had Seokjin believed in such a thing.

“I’m thankful all the same,” Hoseok said, unclipping his badge as they reached the final checkpoint before the waiting room. “Have fun with Namjoon on your date tonight,” Hoseok said in a cheeky way, offering Seokjin a wink.

He was off towards the front door of the clinic before Seokjin could offer any kind of response.

Not that Seokjin probably would have had a response. He and Namjoon had had plans for dinner before. In fact, they’d rescheduled many, many times. But Seokjin was hoping that this was the dinner that would stick. And it was almost two. Usually Namjoon had enough consideration to call earlier than two, if he was going to cancel.

Hope wasn’t a bad thing to have, and Seokjin had hope for their dinner date.

In the meanwhile, he had a two o’clock consult to get to.

And contrary to what Yoona obviously thought about his timekeeping skills, he was more than capable of making it to his consult on time, and looking unhurried at that.

The thing was, ever since Seokjin had opened his clinic, the original one, back in Infinite’s territory, where he’d been worried that he wasn’t going to be able to pay the electricity bill some months, things had always had a way of catching him off guard. There was always something happening, something unexpected and frankly, always something that was easily categorized as an unnecessary complication.

That was why, just fifteen minutes into his consult, Seokjin practically hit the ceiling when the door to the room slammed open and startled him so badly his heart gave a lurch.

“What is your problem?” Seokjin demanded, more scared than anything else. He eyed the frantic looking intern in the doorway. And for the life of him, Seokjin couldn’t place his name. But he was one of the new ones, sent the clinic’s way for a summer program because some of the bigger hospitals were full up. The kid had been at the clinic less than three weeks, and Seokjin had had little to no interaction with him. Jonghyun had been the one to give the go-ahead on the kid, like he did with most of the interns.

Seokjin’s patient in the room, an older woman that reminded him just a touch of Namjoon’s grandmother, looked just as startled as Seokjin felt.

“Sir,” the intern gasped out, looking so scared that Seokjin felt a heave of seriousness. “Doctor Kim. You have to come quick. There’s this kid, his friend just brought him in. He’s bad. You have to come.” The intern turned on heel and dashed back to where he’d come from.

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin offered to the woman, and the hurried after the intern. If something major was happening in his clinic, he was going to be at the forefront of it.

By the time Seokjin tracked the growing commotion on the first floor to the patient waiting area, he was just quick enough to hear Hongbin asking, “Are you an actual medical intern, or are you just pretending to be one?”

Seokjin could have gotten sidetracked by that alone. Because Hongbin was terribly professional at all times, even when he was having a disagreement with someone, and regardless if he was talking to a peer, or someone he respected, or anyone younger than him. Hongbin had been Seokjin’s pediatrician for four months now, and he’d brought a calmness to the clinic that they’d desperately needed. He’d also brought a reinforced air of respect.

Seokjin could have thought for hours on the sharp tone to Hongbin’s words as he knelt over a teenager laying on the ground, twisting around and groaning in pain, while the very intern that had come to retrieve Seokjin, practically had an anxiety attack on the spot.

Seokjin needed to talk to Jonghyun about taking overflow from the hospital. They were probably going to have to start screening their volunteer interns a little more harshly.

“What’s going on?” Seokjin asked, kneeling next to Hongbin, working with him to assess the teenager in pain.

Hongbin was pulling up the teen’s shirt to reveal a discolored and distended area of his abdomen as he stated, “Kid practically came tumbling in here.” Hongbin gave a nod to a nearby teenager who was holding himself tightly. “Friend brought him. He’s obviously in extreme pain, and if I had to hazard a guess, Doctor Kim, on first glance, the kid looks like he ruptured something.”

Seokjin was inclined to agree. Without any kind of proper examination, the swelling, the discoloration, and the sheer force of pain the teenager was complaining of, all looked like something had broken internally. This was obviously an emergency situation.

But Seokjin was quick to say, “We’re not an emergency room, Doctor Lee.”

The teenager’s friend let out a wail, “He just doubled over outside! He just started freaking out on me. Oh god. Is he going to die? You have to help him. This is a hospital!”

The clinic wasn’t a hospital, and that was a fine distinction that mattered in every way possible, when presented with an emergency case.

“Scoot back,” Seokjin ordered to Hongbin, and then leaned forward himself to trace the distended skin. His fingers moved diligently, and quickly, to the upper left quadrant of the teenager’s torso.

Hongbin offered, watching Seokjin’s movements, “Spleen?”

This was not a hospital, Seokjin reminded himself. They couldn’t handle the cases that a hospital could. But Seokjin was most certainly feeling the boy’s spleen, and it felt abnormal. If he was facing what he suspected he was, the teenager didn’t have long.

“You,” Seokjin called out, looking to the teenager’s friend. Seokjin did his best to ignore the crowd that was forming around them, watching the spectacle unfold. “Has your friend been in any accidents lately? Has he suffered any blunt force trauma? Has he been injured in any way over the past few days?”

The injured teenager’s friend seemed shell shocked, and gave no answer as his eyes grew wider and more panicked.

“Move,” Jonghyun announced loudly to the crowd, practically smashing into the traumatized teen. He caught the kid by the shoulder and demanded, pulling him closer to Seokjin and the patient, “Take a good look at your friend. Doctor Kim probably has minutes to properly diagnose him and get started on some kind of treatment. Do you hear the way your friend is screaming? That’s the kind of screaming you do when you’re in serious trouble. So answer Doctor Kim’s questions, and save your friend’s life.”

Jonghyun was certainly being a little heavy handed, but Seokjin wasn’t going to fight him on it. A ruptured spleen, which was what he suspected, progressed to an advanced stage, could be more than just an emergency situation. And he also didn’t think, by the volume of the cries of pain, that this was something that had come out of nowhere. Seokjin suspected the teen had been hiding pain for some time, and just let it advance too much without thinking of the consequences.

“He hit a railing!” the kid’s friend belted out suddenly. “Two days ago.” The kid sucked in deep breaths. “We were skateboarding and he lost his balance. He hit his ribs on some railing. But he said he was okay! He swore to me he was okay! He said he just got the wind knocked out of him.”

Jonghyun caught Seokjin’s eye. “If this kid is in trouble, we don’t have time to get him into a CT machine for a proper scan. He needs a FAST assessment. And he needs it now.”

Seokjin careened back, looking for the nearest nurse, but there were so many people clustered around now it was impossible to make out any of them. At least, until Seokjin’s newest nurse, who was something of a superstar among the other nurses and receptionists, knelt down next to Seokjin.

Moon Bin was practically everything that Seokjin had ever dreamed of in a nurse, though that was a statement made without discrediting any of the other girls who’d been with him from the start. But Moon Bin, who had a way of slurring his name together into the nickname Moonbin that had just stuck after only a few short days, was an absolute superstar. He was always dependable, extremely knowledgeable, and practically two steps ahead of Seokjin whenever Seokjin needed him to be.

Now was no exception.

Moonbin offered, “There’s an ultrasound machine in exam room three. Doctor Bae saw a patient less than an hour ago, so it’s there, prepped, and ready to go. I can run ahead and get it set up for you now, and for a FAST assessment, if you need.”

In truth, Seokjin had hesitated in hiring Moonbin, when his resume had come across his desk months back. Seokjin wanted to say gender had nothing to do with it, because he’d worked with countless male nurses in the past, and gender had no bearing on skill. But gender had mattered, at least a little. Because Seokjin thought the clinic had a good thing going. They were far from perfect, but all the pieces were clicking into place.

The last thing Seokjin had wanted to do was introduce a young, extremely attractive, exceptionally charming male nurse into a pool of single, ready, and interested female nurses. There was no rule at the clinic about inner-dating, but that was also probably the case because no one at the clinic had dated before. And Seokjin didn’t want to have to invent a new rule because of a mishap.

But then, of course, Jonghyun had breezed his way past Seokjin’s desk, barely paying attention in the first place, and commented, “Moon Bin? I didn’t even know he put an application in to fill the position that opened up. Huh. That’s crazy. I wonder if Dongmin knows.”

“Dongmin?” Seokjin had been thrown for a second. “You mean Eunwoo? Our anesthesiologist?” As far as Seokjin was concerned, anyone outside of a gang had no purpose using different names. Seokjin had been confused for days when Dongmin had begun introducing himself as Eunwoo, and everyone had just gone along with it like it was perfectly normal to use a different name professionally. But Seokjin had let it all slide because the clinic could only really afford an anesthesiologist about half as much as they needed one, and Eunwoo was overly generous with his time, his fees, and his availability.

“Yeah him,” Jonghyun had replied. “That’s his boyfriend. Huh. Small world.”

Seokjin hadn’t hired Moonbin because he was Eunwoo’s boyfriend, in the end. He’d just hired him because he was the best candidate.

“Go now,” Seokjin said, giving Moonbin a verbal push. “We’re right behind you.”

As Seokjin and Jonghyun prepared to lift the weakly struggling teen on the ground, Seokjin could hear Hongbin calling out to Yoona, “Get Doctor Cha on the phone now! We may have an emergency surgery here, and we won’t have time to get the kid to the hospital.”

Seokjin and Jonghyun lifted, and Seokjin added to Yoona as they passed by, “Eunwoo went out to lunch with Krystal today, but they said they were just going around the corner. That was an hour ago. They should be back any second. Find him. We’re going to need him.” A FAST assessment would tell him for sure, but Seokjin’s gut was hardly ever wrong, and he had a feeling he was dealing with a ruptured spleen in need of emergency surgery.

It took less than ten minutes for Seokjin to find what he was looking for, via the ultrasound machine.

Next to him, Jonghyun made a low sound and said, “This is the worst I’ve seen in a long time. Either that kid hit the railing hell of a lot harder than his friend thinks, or this kid is just really, really unlucky.”

“He needs surgery,” Seokjin said, eyes narrowing at the ultrasound screen in front of him. “And he needs it now.”

“Well,” Jonghyun replied, “good thing we’ve actually got a surgical area now, right? Let’s go save this kid’s life.”

It had been a while since Seokjin had performed a splenectomy. In fact, he’d only done a handful before on his own, and assisted on a few others. But he was familiar with the procedure, and he was confident he could complete it. There was no other choice. There was a possibility the teenager might die before they could get him to a hospital for the procedure, and even though Jessica was the clinic’s trauma surgeon, it was her day off.

That meant Seokjin was taking the lead.

“We’re ready to go,” Eunwoo said, just after that, returned from lunch just in time to put the kid under. He was carefully situated up at the head of the teenager, who was now sedated, and several sets of eyes were now fully on Seokjin.

Lowly, firmly, Jonghyun offered, “It’s been a long time since I did one of these, and none of them as bad as this, but I can take over if you need.”

Seokjin almost felt offended. Adrenaline, the good kind that got his heart beating faster in a way that made him feel alive, and not like he was dying, was racing through him. He felt primed, and ready to go.

And he was in his element.

“Get me the laparoscope,” Seokjin ordered, thankful they’d purchased the instrument in the last round of ordered equipment. With the amount of bleeding from the rupture going on in the teen, Seokjin was more comfortable using the tool, than attempting anything open.

Jonghyun gave Seokjin a pointed look. “I hope the kid’s spleen isn’t too big for the laparoscope. It looked okay sized in the ultrasound, but we won’t know how bad the damage actually is until we get in there and see.”

Seokjin arched up a little on his feet, steadying himself. “Then let’s take a look.”

Being in surgery was like being in a time warp. For Seokjin, despite the clock on the far wall ticking the seconds by, time had no meaning. The only thing that mattered, as he diligently and patiently performed techniques he had trained for, studied, and practiced, was the patient.

Of course Seokjin cared about Jonghyun who was situated across from him, double checking his work for safety’s sake, and offering opinions when they hit bumps during the surgery. And he certainly cared about the nurses assisting, and Eunwoo who constantly kept them abreast of the kid’s vitals. But really what Seokjin focused on, almost trancelike, was the patient.

“If you tell me,” Jonghyun said sharply, a little more than an hour after the surgery had begun, “that you aren’t going to go out with me to the bar after that mess, then I’m going to walk through the front doors and never look back.”

The two of them were perched up on the roof together, stripped free of their scrubs and surgery protective gear, soaking in the sun after the frigid temperature of the surgery room. Seokjin was reminded of how hot and uncomfortable he’d been before, only hours earlier, during his luncheon. And now he was all too quick to take in the hot sun, and fight back the post-surgery chill that always came.

“Can’t,” Seokjin said easily, relishing in the normal beat of his heart. Sometimes it took a while to come down from the surgery high. “I’m going out with Namjoon tonight. How about this Saturday? My treat?”

“My treat,” Jonghyun insisted. “You were the brilliant surgeon in there.”

Seokjin snorted. “I removed a spleen.”

“You removed a ruptured spleen, which caused a medical emergency in someone who’s not even technically an adult yet, and you got it out invasively, repaired some damage while you were there, and saved that kid’s life. That’s not just removing a spleen.”

Seokjin found himself arguing weakly, “Any competent doctor could have done what I did. You could have.”

Jonghyun bumped his shoulder. “But you did. Now that kid is recovering in our ward. He’s going to be okay. And when he’s a little more stable, we’ll transfer him to the nearby hospital, and he’ll be perfectly fine—barring any recovery complications. So let me buy you a damn beer, okay? And don’t sell yourself short.”

He’d said the same thing to Hoseok earlier.

“Saturday,” Seokjin offered up again. “Unless Kibum is going to be in town.”

“Saturday it is. He won’t be back until next week. Something about Paris fashion week? Or some big Paris event. I don’t know. I can’t keep up.” Jonghyun gave a heave as he raised himself up to his feet. He rotated his shoulder and said, “You know this completely screwed up our entire afternoon. We’re going to be absolutely backlogged on patients, we just diminished our walk-in rate, and that’s on top of not even knowing who to call for this kid to let them know that he’s going to be okay. I mean, doesn’t it strike you as odd that the kid’s friend isn’t giving up the information, either?”

Seokjin agreed, “The kid is trouble. That’s what you’re trying to say, and I agree. It just matters what kind of trouble.”

“This clinic has had enough trouble,” Jonghyun said.

“Say it one more time for the heavens, please.” Seokjin let Jonghyun pull him up.

But then there was an awkward pause between them. Jonghyun’s head tipped up towards the too warm sky, and Seokjin asked him if anything was wrong.

A smile settled on Jonghyun’s face and he said bluntly, “We saved that kid’s life, Seokjin. You saw the state of his spleen. He had half an hour—maybe a little more, before it killed him. You and me, as a team, and all the others, we saved that kid’s life.”

The sun was quickly starting to feel too hot, but it didn’t matter, because Seokjin laughed a little and said, “You’re right. We did. So … good day?”

Jonghyun nodded firmly. “Great day.”

Seokjin couldn’t argue.


	2. Chapter Two

Five hours after the tense surgery that had saved the mysterious teenager’s life, the adrenaline had long since worn off, and Seokjin was feeling the burn of slogging through the daily inventory as his shift came to a close.

He’d completed, after the surgery, and even after spending half an hour fretting over the boy in the clinic’s small but impressive recovery ward, two additional hours of walk-in patients.

But that hadn’t been a chore at all. Seokjin loved his regulars. He loved the familiar faces that came back to him time and time again, and trusted him, and brought their children to him. He liked catching up with patients who were more like old friends now. He loved the people that had helped him build his clinic from the ground up.

He just really adored his walk-in hours. There was something special and magical to Seokjin about new faces, with new stories, and new aliments. The challenge of it all got his blood racing and his mind thinking. And each patient was a new opportunity to build a structure of trust and dedication. 

For Seokjin, those two hours had flown by. As had the hour afterwards where he’d seen a couple of scheduled appointments, and then covered half an hour for Hongbin who’d taken up Seokjin’s patients while he’d tended to the emergency situation earlier in the day.

But now there were no more patients. The clinic closed its doors every night at nine, and stopped seeing patients at eight. Now at seven, only a couple of patients were left in the waiting room for other doctors, there were no more walk-ins, and things were winding down. The clinic was going quiet, the rush of the earlier day was gone, and their staff had been cleaved in half.

Moonbin was still there, though, pulling a tenth hour of work, not complaining in the least that they were a little short staffed at the moment with two of their other nurses out with summer colds. And Joy was puttering around like she practically lived there.

“I think that girl runs on solar energy or something,” Raina had laughed to Seokjin one afternoon, days after Joy had been hired. “She never stops going.”

Jonghyun was still in the building, too, holed up in his office, working on a particularly frustrating case that he refused to give up just yet to a bigger hospital.

Still, for the most part, the day was almost done. And Seokjin was grateful for it. He could do without the emergency that had unfolded that day. He could do without emergencies in general. He’d had more than enough excitement back when the clinic had been at its previous location. 

And the closer they got to closing, the closer Seokjin got to his dinner with Namjoon. The man still hadn’t called to cancel, and they were set to meet at eight-thirty at one of their favorite restaurants. So by all accounts, it was looking like they’d actually get to spend time together.

“Jin?”

Seokjin looked across the second-floor storage room to where Jonghyun was in the doorway. 

“Problem?”

Jonghyun shook his head easily. “For once, no. I just wanted to let you know the hospital just phoned their status in. The kid’s stable enough to travel, so they should be over here in less than twenty minutes to load him up into an ambulance and take him over to them.”

“Perfect,” Seokjin said, breathing out some relief. The kid, who still remained nameless and shrouded in mystery, had been sleeping off the surgery drugs for hours now, on that very second floor, not too far from where Seokjin currently was now. “I’m glad they finally decided to get back to us.”

The whole situation had been a conundrum, really. Because the clinic was not an emergency room. They weren’t equipped to deal with emergency situations, and they weren’t meant for that type of medical care. The teenager with the ruptured spleen had just been very, very lucky that they’d gotten new equipment in recently perfect for his condition, and they’d had both the time and manpower necessary to operate. 

“We’re not a hospital,” Seokjin reminded, but he hardly needed to with Jonghyun. “We can’t keep that kid overnight.”

“No,” Jonghyun agreed. “That’s what I stressed the last time I talked to the head of their pediatrics department. That’s why the ambulance is coming now.” Jonghyun offered Seokjin a mischievous look. “I mean, it’s not like I threatened to drive the kid over to the hospital myself, dump him out on their front lawn, and then call the local news stations, or anything.”

“You wouldn’t,” Seokjin chided. “But I’m glad they’re coming, and far before the nine pm cut off.”

Seokjin truly wouldn’t have let such a thing occur, even if the hospital hadn’t come to get the kid before they closed, or even if the teenager hadn’t stabilized enough to be moved. Seokjin would have called Namjoon, alternatively, and sat up the night with the teenager, just to make sure he was okay. They’d have kept him over night, even though the clinic wasn’t supposed to make exceptions.  


Seokjin could practically hear his father’s disapproving words in his mind.

His father would have said something like, “You don’t run a charity house, Seokjin. Isn’t it enough that you waste your days away at that clinic of yours? Should you waste your nights, too?”  


Seokjin missed his dad. They’d had such a rocky, impossible relationship for a long while. They’d hardly seen eye to eye on anything, and up until the end they hadn’t really understood each other. But they’d been family. And when Seokjin had been in trouble, his father had risked everything, including his good name, to call in the national guard. His father had accepted Seokjin, in the end, and told him many times that he was loved. That was enough for Seokjin. That was closure, as far as he was concerned. 

“Still no name, though.”

“Hm?” Seokjin’s eyes had drifted back to the invoice in front of him. Yoona was set to place an order with the distributor they used to purchase their medical items with, and the emergency situation earlier had completely thrown the inventory off. Seokjin was double checking it all now, and wanted to get it done before he had to leave for his date with Namjoon.

“On the kid.” Jonghyun clarified, “The teenager laying fifty feet from us as we speak.” He pointed towards a far wall.

“His friend still isn’t talking?” Seokjin assumed, moving to the locked area of the storage room, where the most expensive items were kept separated away. “That’s odd.”

“That’s fishy,” Jonghyun said confidently. “Two kids stumble their way in here, one of them has a ruptured spleen, and no one is saying any names. Remind you of anything?”

It did.

It reminded Seokjin of that first night, when Namjoon had been thrust into his care, bleeding and shot, while the rest of Bangtan’s core members flittered around anxiously wanting Seokjin to save him. They’d been using code names back then, but that was the same as giving no names. 

Except for Jimin, of course. Jimin, who’d been loud and brash and unabashedly honest with who he was and the service he was demanding from Seokjin. Along with that gun of his. 

Seokjin liked to think they’d come a long, long way.

Jonghyun supplied for Seokjin, “Trouble. It reminds you of trouble. The hurt kid is down for the count, but his friend made a couple of suspicious phone calls earlier. And he won’t give us so much as a name for either of them. No contact info. No way to identify them. Nothing.”

Seokjin laughed a little. “It’s not suspicious that kids don’t want to tell adults anything. That’s pretty much the standard.”

Jonghyun grumbled a little, “Okay, you’re right there. But Seokjin—Jin, seriously, what kid goes through something this traumatic and doesn’t want his mom? Or his big brother? Or whoever? And being this tight lipped? Letting nothing slide? Someone’s been coaching these kids on how to keep their mouths shut. This is not normal, Seokjin, and the hospital wasn’t too happy when I couldn’t give them any identifying information.”

Seokjin certainly didn’t want to feed into Jonghyun’s paranoia, but he also thought there was something suspicious about the two teenagers. Still, he’d been around long enough to know when people were hiding things, it was often best to leave well enough alone.

Seokjin did not want to go sticking his nose into anyone’s business now. He had enough of his own business to fuss over.

So let the teenagers keep secrets. Let them pretend however they want. As long as they weren’t putting the clinic in any kind of danger, Seokjin couldn’t care less if they wanted to give their names or not.

“Well, Jonghyun,” Seokjin said, giving him an earnest look. “Those two, especially the injured boy, are now the hospital’s problem. Sign them over to the paramedics who show up for transport, and let’s just wash our hands of this, okay?”

Jonghyun didn’t look happy with the proposed solution, but he did agree.

Seokjin reminded, “Some of our patients feel uncomfortable telling us who they are. At least until we earn their trust. Just pretend like this is one of those instances, okay? And then put this from your mind.” Seokjin asked, “Aren’t you freaking out about that case with Mrs. Lee?”

It was definitely the right thing to say, because a distracted look overtook Jonghyun’s face, and he said, “I’m not just freaking out, Jin. I’m convinced there’s something there that I’m just missing. And that is driving me up the wall.”

In an easy way, Seokjin reassured, “I looked over her file, you know. She’s got all the symptoms of arthritis, her age fits, and she has a family history. Not to mention she used to be a secretary and spent six hours a day typing. Her case seems pretty clear cut to me.”

“That’s because you’re not a rheumatologist.” Jonghyun poked an accusing finger at Seokjin, but not a serious one. “I’m sure a million other doctors outside of the field would agree with you. But I’m telling you, something doesn’t feel right. I’m missing something. And I’m not giving up until I find out what that is.”

All doctors got hung up on cases, once in a while. That was as predictable a thing as the passage of time. And doctor’s intuition was a very real thing as well. Not to mention Jonghyun had been in his field for a while. So if he said there was something more to the case than what it looked like, Seokjin was inclined to believe him. And give him time. Until the patient requested a new doctor, or went to a different hospital, she was Jonghyun’s patient to do with as he wished.

The clinic was Seokjin’s, but he wasn’t going to overstep on Jonghyun’s toes.

He wasn’t going to do that to his friend. 

“Don’t give up,” Seokjin encouraged. “You’re a great doctor. I’ve got faith in you.”

“Goody two shoes,” Jonghyun teased. He turned to leave, then asked, “Who’s locking up tonight? You’re leaving at eight, right?”

“Joy,” Seokjin said, holding Jonghyun’s gaze. “She’s more than proven herself over the past few months, so I want to test her on the closing procedure. Moonbin will be with her the entire way. He said he’ll walk her to her car. I know we’re in a much better neighborhood, but better safe than sorry, right?”

Jonghyun said flatly, “They’ve both only been here a couple of months. Won’t it be the blind leading the blind?”

Seokjin asked back, “Don’t you think we hire exceptional people?” He rather thought both Joy and Moonbin had proven themselves. “The people we choose to hire are a reflection on us.”

With a wry laugh, Jonghyun said, “Then that doesn’t make us look very good, does it, when you think about the fact that we’re the ones who okayed that idiot intern of ours.”

“You gave the okay,” Seokjin insisted. “Don’t put the blame on me with that.” He made one last check on the invoice and walked to Jonghyun’s side. “I don’t know about you, but I’d certainly like for someone else to be cleared to close the place up at night, other than us. We’re both morning people, Jonghyun, and I don’t live above the clinic anymore. So either we start training people we trust to close, or one of us is here every single night.”

Jonghyun gave a one shoulder shrug. “Okay. Fair enough. If the new kids manage to not burn the place down miraculously, we’ll take a break from being the responsible ones.”

“Deal,” Seokjin replied.

It took the ambulance more than twenty minutes to arrive, but not by much. And Seokjin was willing to wait out the extra fifteen minutes to make sure that his patient was safely under the care of the paramedics.

In medical school Seokjin had always been chastised for getting too attached to his patients. That wasn’t anything he would deny if pressed. He had a tendency to emotionally attach to people under his care, and it was often hard for him to draw the line after his medical requirements were finished.

There was nothing unprofessional about his empathy, Seokjin was certain. It was just that he liked people. And he was invested in the ones that placed their lives—and their livelihoods, into his hands. 

Seokjin slipped back to his office after that to gather his things up. Traffic wouldn’t be too bad in the twenty minutes he assumed it would take for him to drive to his and Namjoon’s apartment, and then he could be showered and changed and at the restaurant on time.

He was nearly out the door by the time his cellphone started ringing. Namjoon’s name was on the faceplate.

“You had better not be canceling on me an hour before we’re supposed to have dinner,” Seokjin warned, offering a wave to one of the nurses as he passed from the air-conditioned clinic, to the still muggy and hot outside. “Namjoon.”

Namjoon gave a chuckle, and it was an easy one, which did a lot to dispel Seokjin’s fears. “I hope you know how utterly terrifying you are when you have that tone in your voice. I’m serious.”

“You’re not serious.” Seokjin palmed his car keys as he walked quickly to where he’d parked that morning. The clinic had a small parking lot, but there was a bigger, underground facility a block away, and Seokjin preferred to park there. He couldn’t justify parking in the clinic’s lot, when those spots could go to patients in need. “You don’t sound serious.”

“I don’t sound serious,” Namjoon returned warmly, “because I’m not standing in range of you. If I was standing next to you, I promise, I’d be very, very serious. Don’t get it wrong, Kim Seokjin, you are a force to be reckoned with when you want to be, and I’m not stupid enough to piss you off without having a contingency plan of any kind. Or not without putting some distance between us. You’re the alpha in this relationship, and I’m super okay with that.”

Seokjin felt a smile pull at his lips, and Namjoon’s words were comforting. “Flatterer.”

Seokjin could almost picture the grin on Namjoon’s face, as he said “And no, I’m not calling to cancel on you. I wouldn’t call so soon before we’re supposed to meet up. I want to keep all my parts attached to me.”

Teasingly, Seokjin offered, “I’d never take off something essential, Namjoon. At least not something I enjoy.”

Namjoon laughed loudly across the line then. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Seokjin replied, and it was such an authentically quick reaction. “So, why are you calling, then? I’m about to head home and get a shower before going to the restaurant.” Seokjin gave a quick look around the street for a familiar face, then started the trek down two levels to his car. “You’re not here, are you? Or did you send someone? You know I don’t like leaving the car overnight in a parking garage.”

“You’re more protective of that car now than you are of Jungkook.”

“That is not true,” Seokjin said back almost snappishly. He’d coddle and smother his brother to death until his dying day. But there was something special about the car to him. Namjoon knew that, too. It was what the car represented, that mattered. 

Namjoon told him, “I’m not calling to cancel, okay? Don’t freak out. But I am going to be a little late. Maybe half an hour? I’m shooting for less.”

It took almost no time to get to the car, and Seokjin slid in expertly. He put his bag in the passenger seat and questioned, “Why? Is something happening? Are you okay?” He couldn’t help the rush of fear that snaked its way through him. It was a reaction he’d never been able to squash down completely.

Even if he told himself a million times that it was an irrational fear. Sure, Bangtan was still active, and bigger and stronger than ever. And gang business was gang business, regardless if there were shootouts or not. Plus, Namjoon had Yoongi at his side, who was a perfect counterbalance, and smart, and logical, and the only person in the world Seokjin really trusted to keep Namjoon out of trouble.  


He still worried. Anything could happen out there. And any peace could just be the calm before the storm.

“Don’t freak out,” Namjoon cautioned.

“You can’t tell me not to freak out,” he returned a little harshly. He turned the car on and cranked up the air. His head thumped back against the headrest as he offered, “Bangtan business?”

“Yes,” Namjoon replied honestly, and Seokjin appreciated that. Namjoon didn’t lie to him, not about anything, and that meant the world. Namjoon wasn’t always happy about answering his questions, but he always did. “I’m in a meeting with Suho right now, we’re just taking a quick breather.”

Seokjin couldn’t help asking, “What’s going on?”

Namjoon was quiet for a moment, then said. “Maybe nothing.”

“But maybe something?”

Namjoon made a noise of agreement. “We can’t talk about it on the phone. I’ll tell you later if you really want to know. Okay?”

“Well, you tell Suho that if he doesn’t let you go in time to meet me at the restaurant—in time for you to look respectable enough to eat there, I’ll have words with him.”

There was a warmth seeping through the phone, and Seokjin just wanted to relish in it. The simple banter, the ease of their words, and the love in each sentence. It was all Seokjin had ever wanted.  


“Yes, sir,” Namjoon said. “And trust me, Suho is a smart man. He knows better than to mess with you, too.”

Seokjin pushed down the panic slowly. Suho. Namjoon was with Suho. 

Exo and Bangtan, much to everyone’s surprise, had continued to be fast allies. Gangs weren’t known for lasting alliances, or even tentative friendships. And though Suho had come highly recommended, and proceeded by an impressive reputation, the fact that Exo and Bangtan were still on very good terms, spoke volumes to everyone.

“I’d never trust any of them with you,” Namjoon had told him one night, right before bed. “But Exo are good allies to have. They’re upfront and straightforward. Suho hasn’t lied to me yet. So if I had to have my pick of allies, they’re the ones I’d go with every time.”

Seokjin wasn’t delusional enough to think it was an alliance that would last forever. Eventually there’d be something that drove the gangs apart. But for now, Exo and Bangtan watched each other’s backs.

And that was something necessary. Because the two of them had made a big splash when they’d destroyed Infinite. And they’d brought out the bigger fish due to that.

Suddenly, feeling guilty that he might be pressuring Namjoon away from something important, he said, “Namjoon, if it’s really something you need to take care of, we can reschedule. I’m serious. If this is important, I understand.”

There was chatter in the background, and then Namjoon was saying, “Nothing is ever as important as you are. I’ll be there tonight. Just wait for me, okay? Have a glass of wine and don’t let anyone else sit at our table. I don’t want to have to make a scene because some other guy sees what a catch you are and tries to move on you.”

“That’s certainly not going to be an issue. I don’t think anyone is going to make a move in your absence.”

“You only say that because,” Namjoon said, “you don’t see how many people look at you on a daily basis. Look at you and see something special, I mean.”

Seokjin heard the hint of insecurity in Namjoon’s voice, so it was simply to say back, “That doesn’t matter at all, Namjoon. Because I only look at you.”

“I really love you,” Namjoon sighed out.

“I’ll see you tonight.” Seokjin pulled his seatbelt on. “Don’t be too late.”

Honestly, Seokjin would have waited forever for him.

Going home was a pleasure. Seokjin truly loved the moderately priced, but well lived-in apartment that he and Namjoon shared. Namjoon probably could have gotten them some luxury high rise spot, akin to what Seokjin had grown up in. Bangtan’s area, even with the expansion, was mostly lower income neighborhoods, but there were some fringe properties that were very posh. 

But that wasn’t the kind of person Namjoon was, and it wasn’t who Seokjin was, either. The both of them preferred smaller spaces, in neighborhoods surrounded by familiar faces. They didn’t have any children (just yet, Seokjin liked to remind himself), so they didn’t need a lot of space. And both he and Namjoon worked long hours, most days of the week. So they really only needed a functionary space for a bit of time.

Their new apartment was located in such a place, tucked in behind a grassy park area, close to where Jungkook and Jimin’s apartment was, and in a neighborhood near where Namjoon had grown up in. Seokjin could walk to the market in fifteen minutes, and knew most of his neighbors, and truly liked his location.

Eventually Seokjin saw himself and Namjoon having to move. There would come a time where they had to have more space, or maybe other circumstances would intervene. But for the moment, home was home, and home was nice.

Seokjin also appreciated the routine he had when he came home. When Namjoon wasn’t there, it was a steady, predictable set of movements that took him from his shoes coming off at the front door, to his keys and wallet being set in a specific place, to his legs moving him to the answering machine across the living room.

Jungkook liked to tease and laugh at him for having an answering machine—really for still having a landline. But considering Jungkook left most of the messages on the answering machine, the point seemed moot. 

And as expected, of the three messages waiting for him on the machine, two belonged to Jungkook. And only one the two was actually important in any kind of way. The other, naturally, was Jungkook just being a brat, taunting, “Hellloooooo, Jin! Just calling because you’re a stuffy old prude who can’t even turn his cellphone on during the day because he thinks a silent ringtone is somehow going to interrupt his patients. So this is me, your adorable, wonderful, absolutely perfect brother, reminding you that you promised to buy me meat a week ago, and I’m getting really impatient waiting. You can’t bribe a guy and then not deliver!”

Seokjin had not bribed him. He had not. He’d merely insinuated that if Jungkook aced his Mandarin test, and brought him physical proof of high marks, there might be meat in it as a reward for his diligence. 

Jungkook had brought him near perfect marks on the test, and a flawless paper he’d written for his music theory class. Seokjin couldn’t be any prouder of his brother, but he also wasn’t all that surprised. 

Almost nothing about school interested Jungkook, but it all came so easy to him it was almost ridiculous. 

After a hot and fast shower, Seokjin changed into something more presentable for a romantic dinner with the man he loved, did his hair properly, and headed off to the restaurant. He took Namjoon’s suggestion and ordered a glass of wine. It would be water for the rest of the night, so as not to interfere with his medication, but he’d learned over the years that a little alcohol was okay. He knew how to pace himself and do right by his heart.

The bigger issue while he waited for Namjoon to show, was not letting himself get distracted by his phone. He’d had Yoona synch up his personal phone with his work computer, and now he could bring the office home with him if he wanted. Namjoon hated how easily Seokjin was tempted all the time to work while off the clock, but Seokjin was nothing if not a workaholic. 

“I take it you’ve been stood up as well?”

Seokjin hadn’t thought anyone was talking to him for a second, until he glanced over to the direction from the voice, and saw a beautiful young woman looking his way.

“Excuse me?” Seokjin asked, still uncertain. 

The woman gave him a flawless, gorgeous smile. “I said, it looks like the two of us are in the same situation.” She gestured to the empty seat across from her.

“Oh.” Realization lit through Seokjin. “Oh! Oh no. I’m sorry. No. I’m waiting for my boyfriend. He’s just running a little late.”

The woman, with her big brown eyes and dark hair, softened her facial expression to something a little sadder. “I thought I was waiting for my boyfriend, too.” She had a glass of white wine in front of her, contrasting the red that Seokjin was drinking. She reached for the glass and finished it. “I’ve been here two hours.”

Seokjin felt nothing but sympathy for her. “I’m …” 

“It’s okay,” she cut in, a depressed smile pulling at her features. “I should have expected this. We haven’t been … the relationship hasn’t been good lately.” She set the glass down on her table and introduced, “I’m Yoo Jiae.”

She held out a pale, delicate hand. Seokjin met hers with his own strong grip. “Kim Seokjin. I’m very sorry that someone would stand you up.” 

He just couldn’t imagine why someone would. She seemed personable and charming, even if she’d clearly had a little too much to drink. And she was gorgeous. Seokjin found women aesthetically pleasing, and Jiae was absolutely stunning. She was the kind of woman, by mere appearances, who could have anyone she wanted. So what kind of a man stood a woman like her up?

“Like I said,” she reiterated, pushing back at her bangs, clearly trying to ease how flustered she was feeling, “I expected it. I guess a part of me was even hoping he wouldn’t show.”

Seokjin shook his head. “No one deserves to be stood up. Especially by someone who is supposed to care about them.”

She gave him a fuller smile then, a more genuine one. “That’s kind of you to say.” She straightened up. “You’re a kind man.”

Seokjin flushed. “I…”

Anything he was going to say was cut off by Namjoon’s arrival. 

And in that moment, everything else ceased mattering. Everything except for Namjoon. That was how Seokjin knew he was in love. That was how he knew Namjoon was his future.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Namjoon apologized, leaning down to give Seokjin a soft kiss. He sat across from him quickly and tucked a napkin into his lap. “I came as fast as I could.”

Seokjin peered at him quizzically. Namjoon’s clothing, while a little rumpled, were fitting for the expensive restaurant they were at. His slacks were pressed correctly, and his shirt was fitted nicely. He even had the kind of dinner jacket on that Seokjin liked him to wear, when they went out. He looked good. Very good.

Except…

“Your hair.” Seokjin observed.

Namjoon frowned, leaning forward a little. “My hair?”

Seokjin heaved himself out of his chair a little, and leaned over the table. He let his fingers drag through Namjoon’s hair. The strands were getting a little too long, or at least longer that Namjoon typically wore his hair, so the man was probably due for a haircut soon. But for now, Namjoon’s hair was looking a little wild, like it had been kicked up by the wind, and Seokjin smoothed it down gently.  


He did mumble into Namjoon’s ear though, “There’s no wind outside, dear.”

Namjoon caught Seokjin’s wrist. “Are you sure? I mean …”

Seokjin asked him, “What have I told you about getting on the back of Jimin’s bike without a helmet? The both of us know Jimin is excellent on that thing, regardless of what I think about motorcycles, but it only takes one accident for your brains to be splattered on the side of the road.”

Namjoon leaned in effortlessly to peck Seokjin on the lips. “Got it, babe.”

The moment passed quickly enough, and Seokjin felt self-conscious. He certainly wasn’t afraid to be affectionate with Namjoon in public, but maybe there was a time and a place for everything, and in the middle of a busy, fancy restaurant, was not one of them.

Seokjin looked back to where the woman had been seated, one table over, but she was gone now. Seokjin truly hoped she found someone more deserving of her time. Someone who treated her better. 

Namjoon reached across the table to take Seokjin’s hand in his own, and offered, “You look really happy.”

Seokjin squeezed the fingers in his own. “I had a good day.”

Namjoon guessed, “So you got to set a couple of bones, maybe tuck a vital organ back into place? Or did you get really lucky and get to use that big fancy CT machine of yours? You always look the happiest when you get to use that thing.”

“You know me too well,” Seokjin laughed. “But no. I got to perform surgery today. Emergency surgery.”

Namjoon shook his head. “That sounds scary.”

“It was,” Seokjin agreed. “But it was good, too. I missed that sort of thing. I haven’t really gone digging around in someone, in a life or death situation, in a long time. I almost forgot what it felt like.”  


The rush and the thrill of it, of holding someone’s life in his hands …there was no comparing it to anything else. There was no substitute for the adrenaline rush. Seokjin had gone to medical school to study the field of oncology, but he’d very nearly become a trauma surgeon. His first love, medically wise, was surgery.

When Seokjin glanced up at Namjoon, there was an indescribable look on his face. An ambiguous one.

“What?” Seokjin questioned.

Namjoon put an elbow up on the table and asked bluntly, “Are you happy?”

“I just said I was,” Seokjin asked, confused.

“I mean …” Namjoon corrected, “I mean with where you are in your life? With that clinic of yours? With …” He stopped and sighed. “I’m just sitting across from you here, listening to you talk about actually getting to be a surgeon today. And you lit up, Jin. You lit up like I haven’t see in forever.”

Seokjin didn’t like where Namjoon was going with the conversation.

“I’m not saying it isn’t amazing—your clinic,” Namjoon rushed to add. “It’s phenomenal, really. What you do for the neighborhood, and anyone who needs you, is beyond generous. You’re amazing at what you do. But from this side of the table it looks like the clinic is holding you back in a lot of ways. It’s definitely keeping you from what makes you shine like the sun.”

Seokjin sat back in his seat and pulled his hand away from Namjoon. He pointed out, “Even if I hadn’t opened the clinic, I’d be an oncologist. I wouldn’t be doing the kind of surgery that I did today. I’d be working out of an office probably ten floors up at a fancy hospital, doing maybe one or two operations every couple of months. I wouldn’t be down in some chaotic emergency room.”

“Do you want to be?”

Namjoon was staring at him like there was no wrong answer. He was looking at Seokjin like he’d be supported no matter what he said. And that meant he thought there was serious truth to what he was saying.

“I’m where I want to be,” Seokjin said firmly, even if he supposed it was a matter he probably needed to think long and hard on. Because the clinic was his life, and he loved his patients. But his passion was surgery, and he got to do very little of that at the clinic.

Namjoon extended his hand out a little further on the table, palm up. “It’s okay if you’re not,” Namjoon said, voice going soft. “Jin. Jin, listen to me. It’s okay if you’re not.”

Namjoon’s eyes were bearing deep into Seokjin’s own. It should have been uncomfortable. It certainly wasn’t, though. It just felt like a wakeup call.

“I love being a surgeon,” Seokjin admitted. He put his hand back up on the table, into the fold of Namjoon’s. “There’s nothing I love more than being in the moment, saving lives, putting all of my skills and knowledge to the test. Today? Today I felt alive.”

Namjoon, as if he didn’t have a care in the world about all the people around them, scooted his chair almost obnoxiously right next to Seokjin. He tightened his grip on Seokjin’s hand, and bumped their forehead’s together. “Well? What are we going to do about that?”

“We?” Seokjin wondered. “Nothing. I mean … Namjoon…”

Namjoon insisted, “We’re going to do something, that’s for sure. Because you are a wonderful, kind, generous person. You’re pretty much a badass when it comes to doctors, and you do so much for others, you deserve to be happy yourself. So we need to think about what we’re going to do to make that a reality. You and me, we’re a team, right? So when you have a problem, it’s my problem too.”

It was almost maddening, the love Seokjin felt for Namjoon, and he just couldn’t contain it. Namjoon’s mouth was so close to his own, and without warning he was kissing Namjoon’s lips fiercely. 

“We’re gonna get kicked out of here,” Namjoon mumbled against his mouth, meeting his kisses passionately, letting go of Seokjin’s hands to frame his face. “Public indecency.”

“We absolutely won’t,” Seokjin reassured, kissing back. “The manager knew who I was when I walked in. That means he knows who you are.” And they were still in Bangtan’s territory.  


Regaining some decorum, Seokjin forced himself away from the intoxicating sensation of kissing Namjoon, and gulped down some water instead. 

“Admit it,” Namjoon ribbed, squeezing his knee under the table. “You like being my boyfriend. You like the doors it opens for you. There isn’t a person in here who wouldn’t wait on you hand and foot because of me.”

Seokjin pointedly elbowed him in the ribs and said firmly, “I’d like you even if no one afforded you any respect except for me.”

Seokjin could see their waiter in the distance, watching them discretely, probably trying to decide when the swoop in and take their order. Seokjin appreciated his discretion.

He nudged more politely at Namjoon and ordered, “Get back to your side of the table, okay? I want to eat sometime tonight. I’m opening the clinic tomorrow, so I have to go to bed at a respectable time.”  


Namjoon scooted his chair back, but promised salaciously, “I hope you know I plan to respect you tonight. I’m going to respect you so hard tonight.” 

Seokjin burst out laughing as he waved the waiter over. “Dirty,” he whispered at Namjoon. 

“You love me for it,” Namjoon whispered back.  
Seokjin absolutely did.

They were halfway through their meal an hour later, and by then conversation had turned to lighter things. Seokjin was having quite a bit of fun telling Namjoon about the visit he’d gotten from Hoseok, and Namjoon was practically leaning on him for information about how Taehyung and Hoseok had gotten started as a couple. 

“You didn’t know either?” Seokjin asked, confounded. 

“Not really,” Namjoon admitted. “There are some of us in Bangtan, you know, who throw everything we have—everything we are, into the gang. Me and Jimin, we’re like that. Jungkook? He’s like that. Then you’ve got people like Suga, and V and J-Hope. They’re a little more comfortable separating Bangtan from things not Bangtan things. Either works, but there’s a distinct difference.” 

Seokjin reminded, “A long time ago I was talking to Taehyung about his relationship with Hoseok.” It had been when Hoseok had gotten sick, when he’d cut himself and contracted a fever and infection from the wound. “He said that a some of you, though he didn’t name names, had a lot of say about their relationship. I thought he meant that their relationship hadn’t started until after they’d joined Bangtan.”

Namjoon tapped lightly on the rim of his own wine glass in thought, before answering, “They didn’t tell us. J-Hope joined first, then V after him, and no one knew they were dating for a long time. It came out by accident, actually. Suga and I were worried they’d prioritize their relationship before Bangtan. We were worried that their relationship, if it ever went bad, would spell problems for all of us.”  


“The same could be said for our relationship.”

Namjoon didn’t deny it, and instead said, “But by the time we were happening, V and J-Hope had already proven that relationships can work in Bangtan, even when there are problems. They were the prototype.”

“So,” Seokjin eased out, “you could say we owe a lot to them.”

“In more ways than you think,” Namjoon told him. 

“Then we have to make sure their anniversary is extra special.” Seokjin was convinced there was nothing else to be done about it. Taehyung and Hoseok were incredible people, who’d done a lot for him. And he intended to make their anniversary something amazing. “I’m sure my uncle will be okay with them using his vacation house. He hasn’t even been up there himself in years. But when they get there, I want us to have something special waiting for them.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows rose. “Like flowers? A card?”

Flatly, Seokjin said, “I really hope you get a little more romantic by the time our anniversary rolls around.”

“I’ve got time,” Namjoon said. “We didn’t officially start dating until September. We agree on that, right? It’s only May. I’ve definitely got time.”

“I’m already preparing for the worst,” Seokjin said dramatically. But he absolutely had faith in Namjoon, who liked to play that he was less smart, and less creative than he actually was. 

The hours crept by after that, with Seokjin and Namjoon finishing their meal, then sharing a desert, and taking a short walk after dinner. May in Seoul meant heat that stretched all through the night, but without the sun, it was a nice walk to have under the stars. And it was nicer with Namjoon’s hand in his own.

And when they went home to their apartment, where their things were scattered in together, it felt like the perfect end to the night. They shared soft, unrushed kisses in bed, and Seokjin drifted lazily in comfort and warmth.

He mumbled, just as he was starting to drift off, “You never told me what’s going on with you and Bangtan. With Suho.”

Namjoon’s breath puffed against Seokjin’s hair as they twined together, and he asked in his own sleepy voice, “You really want to talk about this now? In bed?”

“No,” Seokjin admitted, pressing his fingers against Namjoon’s ribs, and then up to the old bullet wound on his chest. “Not really. I just don’t want you to think I forgot. Your problems are mine, remember?”  


Seokjin soaked in the feeling of Namjoon quietly breathing next to him, alive and so precious. 

“I’m gonna marry you some day,” Namjoon let slip, sounding halfway asleep already. 

Seokjin’s fingers stilled against his chest, and he felt himself practically holding his breath until Namjoon’s muscles relaxed and he was snoring softly.

From across the room Seokjin could hear a low tick-tock from the clock, and beyond that there was the occasional sound of a car driving slowly down the residential street.

“You’re right,” Seokjin told the sleeping Namjoon, his voice barely loud enough to be heard. “I am going to marry you one day. So you better say yes when I ask.”

On that, though, Seokjin wasn’t really worried.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note to all you wonderful readers. 
> 
> There will be no chapter next week. For the first time in a long time, I'm headed off to take a vacation, and to get away from my job before the stress kills me, or something dramatic like that. So for the next ten days I'll be out of commission, laying on a beach in Honolulu, trying to pretend the outside word doesn't exist. At least until it does and I have to come back.
> 
> By the way my vacation dates work out, I will miss next Sunday's regular upload date, but I'll be back in time for the one after that. So there's going to be just a one week hiatus for the story. My most sincere appreciation for everyone understanding!

Before going to bed the night previous, Seokjin had set his alarm for six. It was the typical time he gave himself to get ready in the morning, at least when he knew he and Namjoon were going to be home together, and factoring in how handsy they could get.

Even in the morning.

Maybe especially in the morning, because Seokjin was absolutely a morning person, and it seemed like Namjoon was an anytime person, when it came to Seokjin.

So he’d set his alarm for six, thinking it was more than enough time to lounge around in bed together for a couple of minutes, enjoy a simple and quick breakfast, shower, and get to the clinic fast enough to have the door ready to open at eight.

He and Jonghyun had been talking about letting Moonbin and Joy take over closing the clinic some nights, but thankfully Seokjin had Yoona every weekday morning to open. She was always promptly there at seven. She got the necessary things set up for the predictable morning rush. She booted up all the computers, set out the day’s schedule, and made it possible for Seokjin to arrive just before eight.

She really was the clinic’s MVP, and she was definitely getting a raise as soon as the next quarter’s budget was approved.

So all things taken into account, Seokjin absolutely expected to wake up practically smothered to death by Namjoon, and squished in-between him and the bed. Namjoon had a particular habit of kind of rolling over onto Seokjin in the middle of the night. Seokjin had learned to adapt to it, and he certainly thought it had a lot to do with how much Namjoon had lost in the past that he spent most of his subconscious time clutching at things.

But this morning Seokjin did not wake up squashed between the mattress and Namjoon. He didn’t wake up overheated and maybe with a numb hand or foot. And that was disconcerting, because his brain told him he should have. As he sat up in a confused way, his brain told him he’d gone to bed with Namjoon, and he should still be in bed with Namjoon.

Had Namjoon had a nightmare? It was a real possibility.

Namjoon did not like to admit he had nightmares, even to Seokjin who shared a bed with him, but Namjoon absolutely did. And they weren’t just nightmares, either. They were night terrors. They were the kind of night terrors, too, that had Namjoon waking up with a scream. Namjoon was often disoriented when he experienced his night terrors, sometimes he cried, and they were almost always about Seokjin, or Namjoon’s grandparents.

Seokjin hated them. He hated that Namjoon suffered through them. But Seokjin had brought up counseling once. He’d tried to convince Namjoon to see someone—to talk to someone. Namjoon had reacted so harshly to the suggestion, almost mean in his dismissal, that Seokjin wasn’t going to be bringing the suggestion up again.

And once in a while, Namjoon had a night terror that Seokjin managed to sleep through. Namjoon never went back to sleep after having a night terror, so it wasn’t uncommon in that situation to find Namjoon in the living room, watching TV, or sitting in the dark, or tucked away on their balcony with only his thoughts for company.

More than he night terrors, Seokjin hated Namjoon dealing with them on his own. The last thing Seokjin wanted to do was sleep through those things when Namjoon needed him.

Unsure, Seokjin scooted to the edge of his side of the bed. His slippers were waiting for him, and he tucked his feet into them even though the apartment was still at a pleasant temperature. Then he looked around the room for some kind of evidence of a night terror. But there was only Namjoon’s unkept side of the bed, and Namjoon’s missing slippers.

The clock said five-fifteen.

Seokjin reached over and turned his alarm off, then he pulled himself up from the bed, stretched, and went looking for Namjoon.

He’d genuinely been prepared to navigate the dark floorplan of the apartment by memory, when he opened the bedroom door that had been firmly shut. But he hadn’t needed to, because there was a lamp on in the living room, and then further out, the kitchen light was brightly spilling out of the room.

Seokjin took a couple of steps out of the bedroom, and that was all it took for him to hear voices.

“—know I’m right, Rap Mon.”

And that, Seokjin would have known anywhere, was Jimin.

It wasn’t unusual, at least a couple days out of the week, for Seokjin to wake up to people in his apartment, and that was something he’d had to get used to. Seokjin liked having his personal space. And he liked to share that space with people of his choosing—unless it was Jungkook, of course. Jungkook had a tendency to just barrel in whenever he wanted, and it had always been that way.

So to constantly have members of Bangtan just showing up at his house, without warning, invading his personal space, had gotten under his skin fairly quickly. And though he and Namjoon fought rarely, the matter had spectacularly blown up between them, with Seokjin threatening to move out, and Namjoon accusing him of pretending as if he hadn’t known it would be a thing.

Seokjin had camped out Jonghyun’s sofa for two nights during their fight, and for a moment it had seemed like the kind of fight that might truly tear them apart.

“I knew they’d be in our space,” Seokjin said after Namjoon had come around on the third day, asking to talk to him, not apologizing, but perfectly calm and hopeful. “I knew moving in with you meant moving in with Bangtan, to an extent. But this is our home, Namjoon. This is our safe space. And it’s important to me that we have control over our home. I need that, and it’s non-negotiable.”

Stubborn, Seokjin’s father used to call him. It wasn’t a lie, either. Seokjin tried his best to be a good person, and hide his flaws from others. But if there was any real deficit to him, it was his inability to compromise when necessary, and how he often saw things in absolutes.

“It has to be negotiable,” Namjoon had said back, not giving an inch. “I’m Bangtan’s leader. And Jin, don’t let this calmness fool you, okay? There is a world of danger out there just waiting to pounce on us. The other gangs? They’ve been giving us some breathing room because of how it all went down with Infinite, and in particular your father. They’re not going to tangle with anyone who looks like they have the military in their back pocket.”

“That was a one-off thing for my dad,” Seokjin had responded quietly. To this day he didn’t know what his father had said to get access to the military like he had, or how he’d justified it, or most of the details in general. But even now Seokjin was starting to consider that his father had more secrets than anyone would ever know.

And Namjoon had agreed, “And your dad, you know I’m sorry to say, is gone now. So it won’t take the others long to figure out we don’t have that kind of manpower at our disposal. And they’re going to start testing us. They’re going to start picking fights. This is the life, Jin. It never ends. I told you that a long time ago, and I’m telling you again. If you choose me, you’re choosing this. And in order for me to keep you safe, and Bangtan safe, and all the people here safe, Suga and the others have to have that kind of access to me. It’s a matter of safety.”

Seokjin, in a way that had ended up torture for the both of them, had taken another day to think on everything. Because he had known what getting into bed with Namjoon meant. He’d understood what willingly exposing himself to Bangtan would entail.  But knowing it and living it felt like two different things.

Low and behold, however, there had been compromise.

And the compromise was set in cement, now. The boys didn’t come over to Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment without calling first, even if it was only a five-minute grace period. They didn’t just burst through the door without warning, and without being courteous. Not unless it was a real emergency. And neither did they come before a specific time.

Seokjin was okay with sharing his life with Bangtan, out of necessity or choice. But his mornings were his own, and he had a routine he liked to keep to.

So why was Jimin in the kitchen before six? Presumably he was talking to Namjoon, and he sounded serious. So was it an emergency?

“No,” Namjoon’s voice carried out of the room, “what I know, Jimin, is that if we start poking around on someone else’s turf, without good reason, we’re going to spark a conflict. Do you want to spark a conflict right now?”

Seokjin moved closer, hidden in the shadows, and he could see the scowl on Jimin’s face.

“Of course not. But we need eyes out there. That’s what you and Suho agreed on yesterday, you know. And what Suga reported in last night? That seals the deal. We have to know what’s going on, especially if it’s anything coming out way.”

Namjoon sighed. “The quiet is killing you, isn’t it? Jimin, it’s not a bad thing to live in peace.”

Jimin huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked away from the heart of the kitchen, and his eyes found Jin’s own.

Things had been … okay, between Jin and Jimin over the past few months. There was still an awkwardness to them that Jin wasn’t certain was ever going to go away.  Jimin still looked at him oddly, like he was fighting back words that wanted to consume him. and Jin found himself tiptoeing around Jimin sometimes, trying to be overly considerate of the other’s feelings.

Jimin hadn’t said anything about his feelings for Jin fading as time passed, but neither had he said anything about his feelings period. They were certainly on the best terms that they’d ever been on, and Seokjin rather liked Jimin’s company now. But they didn’t talk about more private matters. Jimin never spoke of his emotions, either.

Seokjin looked at Jimin now, standing in his kitchen, looking like he hadn’t gone to sleep at all the night previous.

“Is everything okay?” Seokjin asked.

Jimin frowned. “Are we being too loud?”

The touch of consideration was so Jimin that Jin adored him for it. Jimin tried so hard, even now, to hide behind the rough exterior that had protected him for years. But every once in a while, usually when Seokjin himself as involved, Jimin would soften up. There’d be cracks in the shell. There’d be a hint of something gentler still hidden away in Jimin.

“Seokjin?”

Namjoon cut in front of Jimin as he came to Seokjin’s side, worry etched across his face.

With a little embarrassment, Seokjin admitted, “I woke up because you weren’t in bed. What’s going on?”

“Sorry.” Namjoon pushed his fingers through his unruly hair. “Sorry.”

More of a statement now than a question, Seokjin said, “There’s something going on.”

“There’s no point in trying to hide anything from him,” Jimin called out, some amusement laced into his words.

Namjoon glanced back to Jimin. “I’m not hiding anything. But there’s a difference between that and not wanting to worry Jin unnecessarily.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes, pushing past Namjoon to reach the kitchen. He turned the coffee maker on right away, and then opened the refrigerator to glance over the groceries inside. He and Namjoon needed to go shopping soon, but there was more than enough for a simple breakfast.

Seokjin angled towards Jimin and asked, “I take it you’re staying for breakfast? You’re not a bottomless pit like Taehyung or Jungkook, but I’ve seen you eat enough to know what you’re capable of. And how, like them, you’re probably always hungry.”

“I …” Jimin seemed unsure what to say.

Seokjin stated, “You’re staying for breakfast. Take off your jacket.”

Jimin fumbled for the zipper on his jacket as Namjoon trailed to Seokjin’s side once more. “Jin,” Namjoon started. “I didn’t wake you because there’s nothing to worry about.”

Seokjin leveled him with an unimpressed look. “I thought you just said you didn’t want to worry me. Now there’s nothing to worry about? That’s a fine distinction.”

Jimin smothered down a chuckle across the room.

“Out with it,” Seokjin said, pulling out a half full carton of eggs and thrusting them into Namjoon’s hands. “What’s going on? Is it serious? You know I don’t like being in the dark about these things.”

Namjoon openly admitted defeat as he said, “I don’t know why I even try.” He pressed a dry kiss to Seokjin’s cheek. “Let’s eat some breakfast, okay? We’ll all probably be less prone to homicidal urges with some food in us.”

Seokjin was terrible at compromise, really. It was a flaw borne of how hard he’d had to work at life to get to where he was. But for Namjoon, he could always try.

“So there’s been movement,” Jimin said through a bite of rice with an egg topping it. “To the East.”

“The East?” Seokjin wasn’t really sure he could name any of the big gangs to the East, and he was sure that was what Jimin meant when he said movement. There was a certain kind of vernacular, or lingo that Bangtan used, and after enough time, Seokjin could decipher it easily enough. “With who?”

“The Triad,” Jimin said easily.

Seokjin just felt confused.

Namjoon reached out to take Seokjin’s spare hand in his own reassuringly. He kissed Seokjin’s fingers and explained, “We just call them the Triad.”

Jimin’s flicked off easily on his own fingers, “Pentagon, SF9, and Up10tion. Up until a half year ago, they were nobodies. Today? They’re flowing easily in an out of each other’s territories. Too easily.”

Namjoon added, “They are very small gangs.  Each of them has less than a hundred members, and territory fewer than a dozen square blocks. So it’s notable that they’re … mingling so much.”

Seokjin looked down at his breakfast, at the bowls of items spread out in front of him. Movement was never good, even if it was as natural a thing as breathing, to gangs. There was always a push and pull to the gangs and the dynamics they shared. Still as far as Seokjin could figure, movement mattered based on the scale of it. And this was obviously something noteworthy.

But why?

“Why does that matter at all?” Seokjin couldn’t help shrugging. “You’ve always said that gangs are constantly bumping up against each other. And these are small gangs, so isn’t it natural they’d test limits and try to expand? What makes any of this noteworthy?”

Jimin broke in, “A couple of reasons, actually. I mean, firstly, it’s a big deal that they’re getting along. They’re three gangs located right next to each other. They should be at each other’s throats. This is how it is, Jin. The strong consume the weak. One of these gangs should be eating the other two, not making nice. Have you been coaching them on being respectable human beings?”

Seokjin pointedly dragged the dish of meat that he’d prepared with the meal away from Jimin and lectured, “Aren’t you still learning that lesson? Maybe you should go up there and get some pointers.”

Jimin only tugged the other dishes closer to his body.

“He’s not wrong,” Namjoon said, his foot bumping Seokjin’s. “It’s always like this. When you have a cluster of small gangs, the up and coming kind, someone always gets eaten. Little gangs don’t work together. They destroy each other. It’s how they rise to the top and become major players.”

Seokjin wondered who Bangtan had eaten up, then.

“So,” Seokjin reasoned, “this is a big deal then.”

Pointedly, Namjoon held up a finger to stop any more musing comments from him, and said, “The bigger deal isn’t that this is happening. The bigger deal is that it’s happening right out in the open. This is unheard of.”

The clock against the far wall said that despite the odd way the morning was developing, Seokjin was still pretty much on time. So he wasn’t worried about how the conversation was dragging out. He still had plenty of time to shower and get to work.

Jimin snuck back the bowl of meat.

Seokjin reminded, “But Bangtan and Exo worked together for something huge. You’re still working together, and you’re doing it out in the open.”

“Now,” Jimin said, through a mouth full of food.

“Not initially,” Namjoon agreed. “And there’d be no point of trying to hide how loyal our gangs are to each other at this point. But it’s just plain stupid to advertise your alliances early on, before any big power play can be made. So why are the Triad doing that?”

Seokjin leaned an elbow up on the table and couldn’t produce a logical answer to that question.

Jimin leveled a heavy look at Namjoon and said, “Like I was saying to Rap Mon, Suga reported in last night—he’s been looking into this matter ever since we noticed what was going on. Last night our guys imbedded in the area relayed that not only were Pentagon, SF9 and Up10tion holding a special get together, but there were members of other small gangs there, too.”

“Like?” Seokjin asked.

Jimin insisted, “No one you’d know, but it matters they’re all getting along so well.”

Almost completely disinterested in the food he’d made, Seokjin couldn’t help asking, “I just don’t’ get why you’re all so worried. Even if all these small gangs decided to consolidate, or just team up, they wouldn’t be an ounce of a threat to Bangtan or Exo. And they’re not even close to your territory.”

“I just don’t like this is happening and I don’t know why,” Jimin said roughly, putting his chopsticks down roughly. “And we’re all small pieces to something bigger. That’s what you don’t get. If you jumble up a couple of pieces, the whole picture falls apart.”

Mouth pursed, Seokjin looked to Namjoon. “You don’t agree?”

“I agree it’s something interesting and worth keeping an eye on,” Namjoon corrected. “I think it’s something practically unheard of, and it means something—even if we don’t know what that something is. But I’m not fixated on it like Jimin seems to be.”

Almost harshly, Jimin leaned forward and snapped, “I am not going to let a bunch of snot-nosed brats start to nose their way into anything that we bled for—nearly died for.”

“There’s no proof of anything like that,” Namjoon dismissed. “And they wouldn’t be going after us, anyway. KARD are the bigger players near them. They’d be the target.”

Seokjin had wanted to know what was going on, but now he wanted to put some distance between himself and it all. It was just speculation, he had to say. At least from his point of view. It was speculation, and he had to side with Namjoon on the matter. It didn’t sound like it was anything worth getting worked up about.

But he was curious, “Is this what you and Suho were busy with last night?”

“Ah ha!” Jimin declared, almost victoriously. “Rap Mon doesn’t like that Suho agrees with me.”

Namjoon ate a few more bites of his meal before saying, “Suho thinks it’s a little more than interesting. He thinks it’s worrying. But don’t get over confident, Jimin. He doesn’t want to go charging in there all gung-ho like you do.”

“You? Over confident?” Seokjin asked Jimin. “Namjoon can’t mean you, can he?”

“Hardy-har,” Jimin offered.

There was suddenly a much more serious tint to their relationship as Namjoon pushed back from the table on his knees and told Jimin in no uncertain terms, “I am telling you to keep your nose clear of this. Let me be very clear here. I don’t care what your instincts are telling you. I don’t care what you think you know. We’re pulling our guys back right now, and we’re letting the matter settle until things become clearer. And if you put one toe into their territory—any of those territories, you risk this blowing up in our face.”

Frowning, Seokjin asked, “How?”

“The peace we’ve got going on here?” Namjoon gestured around. “You like being able to walk down the street after the sun goes down and not have to worry about anything, right? You like knowing that there isn’t a target on Jungkook’s back? That will change in a second if anyone does anything to pop the bubble of peace we’re living in.”

Frustrated, Jimin argued, “Anyone can pop that bubble at any second. You act like only we’re capable of that.”

“Anyone is, you’re right.” Namjoon’s face was set hard, and almost a little scary. “But we aren’t going to be the ones to do it. Because if we are, it’s going to be for a damned good reason, and not to sate your curiosity.”

Silence lapsed between the three of them, and it was the uncomfortable kind.

“I think you’re making a mistake,” Jimin said finally.

“I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here.” Namjoon got to his feet.

Seokjin found himself springing up with him, more interested in trying to defuse the situation than anything else. Jimin was impossibly impulsive, and Seokjin was absolutely certain Namjoon was thinking about that.

“Namjoon,” Seokjin said quietly.

Namjoon held out a hand to silence him, and Seokjin let it happen. Sometimes he knew there was a line between them, going by the name Bangtan. And as much as Seokjin was a part of them as a whole, he wasn’t a member of Bangtan. So he had to take a step back at times, even when he didn’t want to.

“Do you understand?” Namjoon asked, voice like steel.

Jimin’s jaw looked like it was all locked up, before he finally spit out, “Fine. I get it.”

“I mean it.”

Seokjin winced as Jimin jumped to his own feet, barking out at them, “Yeah, I get it! I said fine. Your word goes, illustrious leader. Everything you want, you get. We’ll all just fall in line!”

Jimin was headed for the front door before another second had passed, and Seokjin was dashing after him.

“Stop. Just stop it.” Seokjin put a heavy hand on the front door, keeping it closed. He could feel the pressure from Jimin trying to pull it open. “Jimin.”

“Get out of my way,” Jimin ground out.

Behind them, Seokjin could feel Namjoon watching.

“Stop running,” Seokjin urged quietly. He kept his voice low so hopefully Namjoon couldn’t hear. “You always run when it gets hard, or you’re upset. For once, just stop running. It’s okay to have disagreements, but nothing good happens when you run from those disagreements. Trust me. I spent a long time doing it with my father.”

Jimin relaxed a little, his grip going loose on the door.

“I made you breakfast,” Seokjin added. “Are you going to be rude and run off before I can guilt trip you into doing the dishes?”

Namjoon’s slipper covered feet sounded on the hardwood floor as he drifted closer, and then his voice was much softer and less angry as he asked, “Will you stay, Jimin? I’m sorry I got upset with you and raised my voice. Stay. We want you to stay.”

Jimin’s shoulders hunched in and he said, “You always get what you want.”

Seokjin felt daring enough to reach out and push at Jimin’s shoulder.  Jimin swayed with the push and it was a good sign.

And then finally, Jimin breathed out, “I hate doing the dishes.”

“Tough,” Seokjin said with a grin. “I need to get ready for work soon.”

Namjoon called out, “The food is getting cold.”

The matter seemed almost completely decided when Jimin turned, but then it was only for him to look at Namjoon and ask point blank, “Are you one hundred percent sure that this is nothing worth getting worked up over? Are you that sure?” His eyes flickered over to Seokjin. “Certain enough to put all our lives on the line over it?”

Unflinchingly, Namjoon held his gaze and returned, “Maybe something will change in the future. But right now? Yes. Yes, I am that sure.”

Jimin gave a sharp nod and then veered around Namjoon to get back the kitchen.

Seokjin waited until Jimin was out of sight to reach out for Namjoon. He clutched at Namjoon’s hand and practically whispered, “What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not,” Namjoon replied confidently.  There wasn’t a hint of uncertainty in his tone, or on his face. “And I get what Jimin was implying, you know. I know that if Bangtan gets toppled down, it means bad things for you. So yes, I am sure enough to put your life on the line.”

The whole exchange left Seokjin feeling uneasy, but he believed in Namjoon. And Namjoon was Bangtan’s leader for a reason.

“I’m not doing the dishes by myself!” Jimin shouted at them from the kitchen.

“Coming,” Seokjin called back. But when Namjoon tried to pull him along, Seokjin dragged him back.

“What?” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Jimin,” Seokjin offered up. “He’s been getting better at confronting people, issues, and emotions, but when things get hard, he still tries to cut and run. We are not letting him do that anymore. Do you understand?”

Namjoon asked in a confused way, “I asked him to stay. I did the right thing.”

“You did.” And Seokjin was proud of him for it. It couldn’t have been easy for Namjoon to practically beg Jimin to stay.” Seokjin felt like he was deserving of a reward, so he pushed his fingers up into the base of Namjoon’s skull, into his hair, and kissed him deeply.

After that the both of them returned to the kitchen to finish the meal quickly, and then Seokjin was rushing off to take a shower and get dressed for work.

And at the very least, a warm shower and a fresh set of clothing had rid Seokjin of some of the tenseness in him. Not all of it, but some was better than none.

“Jimin left?” Seokjin asked when he met Namjoon in the living room. Namjoon was still dressed in his bed clothes, but Seokjin hoped that was a good thing. Namjoon could do with going back to bed for a few hours, at least relaxing a little. “You didn’t run him off, I hope.”

Namjoon insisted, “I totally proved myself earlier, didn’t I?” He put his arms around Seokjin’s shoulders and tugged him in for a languid kiss. “I didn’t run him off. He just had business to get to. Jungkook won’t be out of class for several more hours, so I need Jimin out there on the streets.”

And even if Jimin was angry about something, Seokjin knew he was reliable. Dependable. Jimin didn’t let emotions get in the way of doing his job.

Seokjin’s fingers came to rest at Namjoon’s waist, and he said firmly, “Jimin really does think there’s something to this matter, you know, with the Triad. That’s a horrible name by the way. And if his gut is telling him something, don’t you think it’s worth looking into? Jimin’s gut is pretty tried and true.”

“You think there’s something going on?” Namjoon wondered.

Seokjin only shrugged. “I don’t know half as much about gang tendencies as you do. I don’t know what’s normal and what isn’t. I just know that Jimin is someone you trust and respect. So isn’t this worth looking into just for those reasons?”

Namjoon leaned forward to engulf Seokjin into a proper hug. His chin rested down on Seokjin’s shoulder, and he took a deep breath. He admitted, “I’m kind of liking this peace, you know. I’m liking late night dinners with you, and not rushing around, not worrying, not expecting the worst. But this kind of thing, the lull before the storm, it never lasts. And I don’t want to be the one to spark the push and pull between gangs again. I don’t want to be the reason everyone starts panicking again.”

“That’s fair.”

Namjoon took another, steadying breath. “Jimin doesn’t think that’s fair. And he might not think it, but I don’t actually like telling him no.”

Seokjin only had to crane his head a little to the side to kiss the edge of Namjoon’s mouth. Then Namjoon was leaning to aid him, and there were proper kisses being exchanged.

“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Seokjin asked, releasing his grip on Namjoon. He had to stop before the kissing turned into anything more, and then his self-control went out the window and he was severely late to work.

“No,” Namjoon said emphatically. “Unless you can give Jimin a legitimate reason to be in Wonju.”

“Wonju?”

Namjoon nodded. “That’s where these guys are based out of. Not the biggest place in the world, but noteworthy in other ways. It’s to the East.”

“I know it’s to the East,” Seokjin said, stepping further back from Namjoon and going to his shoes across the living room. “I’m going to be there next week.”

“Excuse me?” Namjoon stumbled after him, looking much too uncoordinated in that moment to possibly be some big bag gang leader. “You’re what?”

“I’ll be in Wonju next week,” Seokjin repeated. “Don’t you remember I told you I was going for that conference? I was invited, and it’s a conference centered around pioneering methods of treating patients in serious situations with limited resources or in particularly unsafe situations. I thought that sort of thing would be especially beneficial to the clinic, for obvious reasons. Namjoon, don’t look at me like that. I told you over a month ago I was going.”

Namjoon looked less shell shocked now as he eased out, “The two-day conference. I … I remember now.”

It had been planned and booked for several months now, and Seokjin was especially looking forward to gleaming new information that could benefit his patients. The clinic wasn’t exactly in the same danger now that it had been in before, but there still wasn’t enough money to go around, resources were limited, and the neighborhood, no matter how hard Bangtan tried, wasn’t a hundred percent safe.

Plus, it would be nice to get away for a couple of days. Seokjin couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone on vacation, and he’d treated himself to a very nice hotel for the night he planned to spend in Wonju.

“Next week I leave.” Seokjin reached for his bag next, pulling the strap over his head. He paused and asked, now concerned, “That’s not going to be a problem, is it? Because of … because of our relationship. They’re not going to think I’m trying to spy on them or something, right?” Infinite had thought that. Seokjin didn’t want to go through it again.

“No,” Namjoon replied, still looking uneasy. “If you’re there for work, they won’t think anything of you. That’s how it works—how it’s supposed to work. A legitimate reason is always a pass.”

“Good.” Seokjin leaned over for a goodbye kiss. “It’s only two days. I’ll be back before you know it. Trust me.”

“Seokjin.” Namjoon caught his wrist to stop him.

Seokjin swung back.

“I always trust you,” Namjoon said, stealing another kiss. “It’s everyone else, I don’t trust.”

Seokjin cracked a smile. “You sound like an overprotective father.”

Namjoon turned Seokjin’s palm up, and pressed a tiny baggie full of Seokjin’s pills into his hand and said, “Don’t forget your vitamins, son.”

Seokjin’s fingers curled around the pills firmly. Of course. He’d absolutely forgotten. With all the excitement that morning, his routine had been disrupted, and so he’d forgotten to take his medication. But Namjoon hadn’t forgotten.

“Thank you,” Seokjin said, putting the baggie safely into his pocket. “Namjoon, I appreciate it.”

“I love you,” Namjoon replied. “Now get going, or else you’re going to be late to work.”

Seokjin could have stayed and gone right back to kissing Namjoon in that moment. It was all he wanted to do. But the rational part of him, the responsible one, was warning him that he was now behind schedule, and if he had any hope of making it to work on time, he was going to need the traffic to cooperate.

“Be safe!” Seokjin called to Namjoon as he hurried out the door.

Namjoon responded, “I always am!”

Yoona was waiting for him at the front door five minutes before the hour, as Seokjin slid in and gave her a quick bow in apology. Outside a couple of the day’s patients were already waiting. Walk-in hours didn’t start for some time, but Seokjin had noticed lately there’d been more and more of a buildup waiting beforehand. He wasn’t sure if he’d just carried over a lot of his patients from the old location, or if the clinic was attracting a new wave of people—more than they could probably handle.

“Just in the nick of time,” Yoona said good naturedly, closing the door after him ad locking it.

“Traffic was a mess,” Seokjin lied, moving quickly to the receptionist’s area. He set his bag down and out of sight, and tried to make himself look presentable.

“Liar,” a voice whispered behind him.

“Don’t say a word,” Seokjin mumbled back to Lizzy who was throwing knowing looks in his way and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“I already knew that,” Yoona said, breezing past Seokjin to her typical spot at the front desk. Seokjin would have known it was her spot regardless if it was where she sat nearly every day or not. Yoona had decorated the space with pink post-it notes with affirming messages, and pink stickers, and all thinks pink that made Yoona exactly who she was. “How about next time, Doctor Kim, you just budget a little extra time in for your hot boyfriend?”

Seokjin pinned her with, “I can fire you, if you’ll remember.”

“Never gonna happen,” Yoona said confidently. She sat in her chair and brought up the day’s patient intake log. “You’d never get by without me.”

“You’re probably right,” Seokjin laughed.

The doors opened less than five minutes later, and Seokjin felt like his day was just getting started then when he got to see his first patient. And by the time he was on his second, Jonghyun and Krystal had arrived. And so had Irene.

Irene was special to Seokjin, or at least what she represented.

In retrospect, there’d been a lot of vital things that the old clinic lacked. There’d been a lot of services that they couldn’t provide, or options they couldn’t offer the patients. And though Seokjin was proud of where they’d come from, the new clinic was better in every way possible.

And part of that was Irene.

Irene, who’d started just two weeks after the new clinic had opened its doors, was the first and only OBGYN they’d ever had.

If there was anything to feel shame in, for Seokjin it had been in that department. He’d had many, too many, women request a female doctor for private and personal examinations. They’d trusted him, of course, and almost all of them had allowed him to be the doctor examining them in the end, but they’d wanted a female doctor they could feel more comfortable with.

Irene filled that void. Now, when patients requested a female doctor, not just for specific types of examinations, but just in general, Seokjin had something to offer them.

Yet there still were, a lot by his count, many women who came to him and wanted him specifically to oversee their pregnancies, and examinations that were sensitive in nature. He was no obstetrician, but he was still delivering babies.

Still, it was very, very nice to have an alternative for more private women, or for any situation that called for it.

And, with the new machinery they now had, and the tools at their disposal, Irene was using her knowledge to implement preventative care. She was screening for cancer at an exponential rate, and Seokjin was proud of how she’d swept in so easily and adapted to the way the clinic was run.

She’d also brought Joy in with her.

“She’s not my sister,” Irene had said, after recommending Joy to the position. “But she might as well be. We grew up together. We only had each other, in a lot of ways.”

Seokjin had reminded her that the clinic tried to steer clear of nepotism. “We can’t show favoritism in any way,” he’d insisted.

And she’d said right back, “I agree completely. But you need to fill the position, and Joy has the credentials to back up what I’m telling you about her. She’s loyal, has a positive attitude, and she’s professional. She’s a good fit for this clinic, as far as I can see. But take a look at her resume for yourself, and take me out of the equation completely when you decide if you want to interview her.”

Her resume had absolutely spoke volumes, and it was especially impressive at her young age. So Seokjin had interviewed her, and Irene had been right. There was no one better suited than Joy. Jonghyun, who was more of a partner now than anything else, had agreed.

As Seokjin worked his way through the morning rush, trying to fly through his patients as quickly as possible without being inattentive, he let the morning’s friction fade from his mind. Jimin was often at odds with people, it was practically his normal disposition, and when Namjoon put his foot down about something, it was always for a good reason.

It was a matter, this Triad business, that would work itself out. Seokjin was confident. And if there continued to be issues on it, Seokjin would just go to Yoongi. No one dealt with Bangtan problems likes he did.

Seokjin took his lunch at half past one, in the employee lounge, eating the leftovers he’d had stored in the refrigerator from the previous day. He’d cut himself too short in the morning to make anything for lunch, or to stop for anything. And it was hot and humid outside again, as it would be for months. He wasn’t about to go walking anywhere for lunch, or even drive for it. Leftovers would do.

He glanced over to where Moonbin and Jessica were seated across the room. Seokjin did his best to let the employee break periods match up as much as possible. They couldn’t have too many people off the floor at once, but it was always better to eat with others. And the clinic had the distinct pleasure of employing people who all generally liked each other.

From what Seokjin could tell, Jessica was trying to bribe Moonbin into being her nurse for the next couple rotations exclusively. Seokjin recalled that she had a couple surgeries scheduled. But they were outpatient procedures, nothing overly complicated, and probably were better suited for some of the other nurses who were more content with stitching up simple cuts.

Seokjin liked to float the more complicated patients in Moonbin’s direction, in part to test him, and in part because Seokjin knew just what kind of nurse the man was.

“My schedule is already up,” Moonbin told her. “We can’t just make changes to it because you want to gossip about how cute my boyfriend is and yes, by the way, he does have a single, attractive, funny, and successful attorney brother. I do accept bribes.”

Seokjin laughed a little, lowly. He wasn’t sure how a friendship had struck up between the two of them, but it was nice to see.

Seokjin was mostly through his lunch when the door to the well-furnished lounge opened. Joy’s head poked in and she scanned the room. Her eyes settled on him, and then she was moving quickly to him.

Her voice was low and serious as she said, “I’m sorry to bother you on your lunch, Doctor Kim, but there’s a man here to see you.”

Seokjin frowned. “What?” Plenty of people came to see him all the time. She needed to be a lot more specific to narrow anything down. “What does that mean? A patient? Another doctor?”

She grimaced, and Seokjin didn’t like that one bit.

“He says …” she trailed off awkwardly.

Seokjin let his own voice drop as he asked, “Is he Bangtan?” The core members swept in like they belonged, and Seokjin couldn’t really discredit that assumption. But once in a while someone a little lower on the rung came in, and there was always awkwardness when that happened.

Joy shook her head. “No. He just said you’d want to talk to him. The boy from yesterday? The teenager who needed the splenectomy? This man says he’s one of his.”

The phrasing was … telling.

“One of his?”

Joy nodded slowly. “One of his. He used those words exactly.”

Seokjin put the small bit of his lunch left to the side, and then stood slowly. He was much taller than her, but there was a sense of intimacy between them as he asked her in the same, quiet voice, “Has Yoona told you what to do in case of an emergency? A special emergency?”

A gang related emergency.

Unhurriedly, but deftly, she nodded.

Seokjin gripped her hand in a reassuring way as he passed her, saying, “I’ll see him in my office. But if anything goes wrong, you do exactly what Yoona taught you.”

Joy’s eyes were wide and worried as Seokjin went directly for the stairs.

The man in question, standing with his back to Seokjin as he was pointed out by Lizzy, was standing in the smaller waiting room off to the side. It was a secluded little space that most of the regular patients kept away from. Seokjin used the space to talk to family members when something, rarely, went wrong during a procedure.

“That’s him,” Lizzy said, face pinched with uncertainty. Behind her Joy had appeared and was waiting with clear apprehension radiating off her body.

“Thank you,” Seokjin said. He took stock of a smaller build than he was expecting. But he couldn’t see all that much from the angle of the man’s body, truthfully. There was just a slighter figured than Seokjin had imagined in his mind, short cropped black hair, and strong posture that indicated the man wasn’t uncomfortable at all.

There was some fear in Seokjin, as he approached the man, but not as much as there would have been a year ago. He’d been through too much now for that kind of fear to still reside. He’d seen too much. He’d experienced too much.

“Sir?” Seokjin called out.

The man turned then, with a handsome face, and none of the telling marks of someone in a gang.

“You asked for me,” Seokjin followed up. “I’m Kim Seokjin. I performed the surgery on the teenager that was here yesterday. You told my receptionist …”

A bold smile lit the man’s face then as he turned fully to Seokjin. Then he said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kim Seokjin. My name is Choi Seungcheol.”

Oh.

“You …” Seokjin clamped down on his mouth before he could say anything else. But he knew who this man was now. He knew who Choi Seungcheol was. He just couldn’t imagine why he had the leader of Seventeen in his clinic.

Or what it meant.

“I think we need to talk,” Choi said.

Seokjin didn’t really think saying no was an answer. So, numbly, he offered, “Follow me to my office?”

A laugh erupted from the man, and he said to Seokjin, “You’re just as polite as they say you are. Interesting.”

“There’s nothing interesting about being polite,” Seokjin said back, unable to help himself.

“No. I guess not.” Choi bowed a little to him in agreement. “Lead the way then to your office.”

Seokjin swallowed past the lump in his throat and did just that.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psst, I'm still on vacation, but there's something really easy about editing when you're laying on a beach, having super cute surfer boys bring you drinks. Go figure.
> 
> I still plan to have a chapter up on Sunday per the usual, but in the meantime enjoy this chapter right now, and I'll get to comment replies throughout the next couple of days! Mahalo!

Seokjin had the most spacious office in the building. He hadn’t planned it that way on purpose, it had just kind of happened. Most of the time, however, all that empty space was wasted. Seokjin tried to spend most of his time on the floor in the clinic seeing patients, and as little as possible in the room that had his name on the door. He saw consults from time to time, and had private meetings with patients as necessary. But for the most part, the room always felt a touch too big, and always too empty.

Except for now, naturally.

Now, as Seokjin closed the door behind Choi Seungcheol and gestured for the man to take a seat in the chairs placed in front of his desk, the room felt too small. It felt impossibly small, and like the air was going thin.

The air conditioner was blasting down onto him as he closed the door to give them privacy, but he could have baked in his skin in that moment.

Nervously, but trying to coach himself to be otherwise, Seokjin asked, “Can I offer you a drink? We have coffee for sure, bottled water, and tea.”

Seungcheol, in a graceful way, let himself down into one of the hairs. An ankle crossed a knee, and his head cocked curiously.

Fighting back a stutter, Seokjin added, “We might have juice? I can check.”

Seungcheol’s mouth tipped upward and he commented, “You should hear the things people say about you.”

Seokjin’s hand held on the door handle for a moment more as he suppressed the urge to run for help. “People say things about me?”

Running wouldn’t do him any good, Seokjin decided, pushing away from the door and walking directly to his seat behind his desk. He threaded his fingers and placed them atop the desk in plain view.

What would running accomplish him, really? Nothing. Because even if Namjoon was standing out in the lobby, which he most certainly was not, starting a fight of any kind in his clinic was not acceptable under any circumstances. His patients were not fodder or acceptable collateral damage.

“Nothing you aren’t proving to me now,” Seungcheol eased out. “People talk. People always talk.”

By people, he most certainly meant gang members.

The biggest question, however, was what Seungcheol, or anyone else from Seventeen, was doing anywhere near Bangtan’s territory. In Bangtan’s territory. Seokjin knew very little about Seventeen, but what he did know boiled down to their location, which was to the south, and the major players in the gang.

“They’re not huge yet,” Yoongi had stated, showing Seokjin Seungcheol’s picture some time ago. “But the most important word in that sentence is yet. They’ve got a lot of power backing them, a lot of tenacity, and they’ve got the numbers already. Today they’re just one drop among millions. Tomorrow they might be a lot more.”

That day had been like an impromptu lesson for Seokjin about the gangs that Namjoon and Yoongi thought he needed to be on the lookout for. They’d covered more than just Seventeen, of course, but Seventeen had stood out. Seventeen was the kind of gang that could stand out amongt millions.

“I’m never going to be near this guy,” Seokjin had said confidently, moving Seungcheol’s picture to the side so he could see the one underneath it. “Seventeen is pretty far down south, and they’re still building up their infrastructure—that’s what you said five minutes ago. So this all seems pointless.”

Across the room, with his arms folded over his chest, Namjoon had said, “Don’t you think everyone who’s anyone has your picture? If you think otherwise, let me assure you they do. They all know exactly who you are—to me and Bangtan. They know your full name, they know where you work, they know Jungkook is your brother, and they might even know more about you than I do. This is the game, Seokjin. This is how it goes.”

So Seokjin had memorized Seungcheol’s face. And that was how he knew exactly who was sitting in front of him, and how serious it was.

“They say you’re too nice for your own good.”

Seokjin frowned at Seungcheol’s words.

“They do,” Seungcheol insisted, maybe looking a little affronted at the gaze of disbelief being sent his way from Seokjin. “Everyone says Rap Mon went and got himself a bleeding heart for a boyfriend. And what do you know, I’m in your clinic five minutes and you’re offering me refreshments. I’d say that’s something.”

Seokjin leaned an elbow up on his desk and said, using the man’s moniker, “And what would you prefer I serve you, S.Coups? Arsenic?”

Seungcheol looked even more interested. “Someone’s been studying up.”

Feeling more confident now, if only a touch, Seokjin relayed, “Call me a bleeding heart if you want. I don’t care. But I’m a doctor, too, and that’s a more important distinction. This is my clinic, as well. You may have noticed my name on the sign outside.”

“Your point?”

“My point,” Seokjin said back, “is that when you walk through those doors right in the front, it doesn’t matter who you are. It doesn’t matter what your name is, or where you come from, or what affiliation you have. It means that you’re a patient, or a prospective patient, and at the very least, it means you’re a human being. People deserve respect, and I give it to them in droves here.”

His foot jiggling a little, Seungcheol said, “That’s the kind of attitude that’ll get you killed.”

Almost operating on instinct alone now, Seokjin replied, “I’ve heard that before. And considering several people have tried to kill me in the past, and haven’t managed it yet, I’ll keep operating on my philosophy.”

Seungcheol let out a laugh.  “Oh, I like you.”

Seokjin’s eyes narrowed, and he ground out, “But you better not have brought a gun into this clinic. Because if you did, all of what I said before becomes null and void, and I will personally help you outside without any kind of concern for how it happens.”

Seungcheol leaned forward and said, “They also say you’ve got bite. I think I can confirm that.”

Seokjin had tried to look for a gun on Seungcheol when they’d been walking back to the office, but it had been impossible to tell. Seokjin had gotten pretty good at being able to spot when someone had a gun on them, but Seungcheol’s clothes were fitted in a styled way, and there was nothing telling on his person.

“Well? Do you?”

No guns. That was the rule. It was the most important standing rule. No guns in the clinic, no matter who wanted it bring one in.

“No,” Seungcheol said lazily. “You can rest that kind little heart of yours on the matter.”

Seokjin’s kind little heart that felt like it was going to jump out of his chest in mere seconds.

“Okay.” Seokjin caught Seungcheol’s gaze. He asked bluntly, “Then tell me why you’re sitting in my office. You’re a long way from home, and so were those kids from yesterday, if they’re associated with you.”

Seokjin wondered if this was a day that Namjoon had eyes on the clinic. Had there been a person from Bangtan standing watch who’d picked up on who Seungcheol was? The situation seemed fine for the moment, and Seungcheol wasn’t making any threats just yet. But the whole thing could go belly up in a second if anyone crashed into the clinic and started a fight.

Therefore, despite how uncomfortable Seokjin was with having someone like Seungcheol in his office—in his clinic, it was better if things stayed exactly the way they were. For the time being.

Without any hesitation, Seungcheol said, “My older sister is getting married in less than a week. I’m here for it. She works in Seoul, all her friends are in Seoul, and the guy she’s marrying lives in Seoul. So they’re having the wedding here.”

It was such a mundane answer, and it really threw Seokjin off. It reminded him that gang members were just people, underneath it all. They had families, and they did normal things. That notion often blurred a line that Soekjin had firmly established in his mind between the more business aspect of gang members, and the personal kind.

“And you brought your associates for that event?”

He knew he sounded like he was grilling Seungcheol for information, and he knew that the man in front of him was someone very dangerous being extremely patient with him. But he felt territorial now, when it came to Bangtan and Bangtan’s assets. He was invested in the gang. He loved the core members of Bangtan. And Namjoon and Jungkook were his world.

He wasn’t going to sit back and let someone stroll into Bangtan’s territory and pose a threat.

Seungcheol peered at him quizzically, and then asked, “People also say you’re overprotective.”

“People don’t know me,” Seokjin snapped out. He caught himself a moment later, however, and offered a low apology.

“I imagine,” Seungcheol eased out, “it’s hard to watch your little brother traipse off into danger all the time. Being an older brother isn’t easy. Especially when they’re constantly going off to get into trouble, specifically when you explicitly tell them to behave.”

There was something a little too knowing in the words—a little too telling.

“The teenager?” Seokjin assumed.

Seungcheol shrugged. “Trouble seems to follow Seungkwan around like a bloodhound. I should have known better than to trust he could keep himself out of trouble for a couple of days without me there. But business kept me in Jeju up until yesterday, and he begged to go ahead and see family. The begging got me.”

Seokjin looked harder at Seungcheol’s features. There was a charismatic ease to him that made it easy for Seokjin to talk to him, but his features themselves, they looked almost nothing like the boy’s that Seokjin had treated. So he couldn’t help pointing out, “You two don’t look much alike.”

He still had the boy’s face burned into his mind. But that wasn’t anything too unexpected. Seokjin had a way of remembering the faces of people he operated on. None of it was too intentional, but before he opened anyone up, he made it a point to take a long look at the person he was operating on.

It was a trick he’d taught himself in medical school, even when the other surgeons and established doctors had been harping on all of the new medical interns to put away any kind of emotional attachment or personal relationships with a patient. Maybe that worked for some, but Seokjin was better doctor when he knew who was on his operating table, and what face he’d remember until his last days, if he made a mistake.

So when he compared Seungcheol’s face to that of the person he claimed was his brother, he came up with a lack of belief that they were related.

In a far from ashamed way, Seungcheol said, “Seungkwan is my half brother. He has a different mother than my sister and I, and the three of us weren’t raised together. In fact, I didn’t even know Seungkwan existed until six month ago. Imagine that surprise.”

That was surprisingly candid for Seungcheol to admit, and it humanized him in a way.

Then Seungcheol wormed his way under Seokjin’s skin in a worrying way, by saying, “But you and your brother look very much alike.” Seokjin didn’t like for one second, anyone comparing pictures of them, and memorizing their faces.

“So you and your brother are in town for a wedding,” Seokjin surmised. “And your brother just happened to have a medical emergency in the middle of Bangtan’s territory?”

“Looks that way,” Seungcheol said flippantly. But the ease was gone in a half second, and then something more serious was in its place as he all but demanded, “Seungkwan’s spleen ruptured?”

Something flipped in Seokjin, too. He felt it deep in his core, and in the part of him that made him the focused and dedicated doctor he was.

Gone were representatives for Bangtan and Seventeen, and in their place was a knowledgeable doctor, and a concerned family member.

The change in situation, Seokjin knew he could handle flawlessly.

Giving a confident nod, Seokjin said, “Despite the complete lack of cooperation I seemed to be getting initially from either boy, I was able to work out the medical emergency was concentrated in his spleen. I’ve seen my fair share of damage to spleens, but your brother’s was particularly nasty.

“In hindsight,” Seungcheol said, “Trusting Dino to be the one to keep Seungkwan out of trouble, was just asking for something bad to happen. A bit like the blind leading the blind.” Seungcheol slouched a little in his chair. “But you saved him. That’s what the doctors at the hospital are saying.”

“I saved him,” Seokjin agreed, “but only because he was very, very lucky to be in the right place at the right time. You might want to let him know just how lucky he is. If he’d been anywhere else when his spleen had ruptured, it would have been fatal for him. He wouldn’t have been able to get help as quickly as necessary to save his life. The other boy mentioned something about a skateboard?”

“Damnit,” Seungcheol hissed out. “I told Seungkwan to stay off that skateboard of his.”

“The blunt force trauma,” Seokjin inferred. “The other boy—Dino did mention that Seungkwan hit some railing. Hitting anything hard enough, in a concentrated area, can cause this kind of outcome. The spleen is miraculously resilient, but even it has limits.”

Seungcheol was quiet as he took in the words.

Skateboarding seemed like a pastime Jungkook would engage in—seemingly innoculous, but inherently risky all the same. So Seokjin felt for Seungcheol on the level of simply being a big brother.

He offered, “As an older brother, I can advise you that simply telling your little brother not to do risky things, like skateboard, isn’t going to be effective in the least bit. He’ll do it anyway, because that’s how little brothers are.”

Seungcheol gave a deep chuckle.

“So how about you sit him down and tell him not to ignore warning signs from his body instead. The state of his spleen? That wasn’t something that came out of nowhere. That kind of damage indicated to me right away that Seungkwan had been in pain for some time, and not just a little bit, either. He’d probably been ignoring discoloration, and pain, and dizziness, for days.

Seungcheol vowed, “I’m going to kill him.”

Seokjin certainly didn’t want to let his guard down with the man across from him, but he was starting to feel less and less like Seungcheol was one to pick a fight needlessly. And if he was to be believed, with no evidence to the contrary, he was only in town for a short while and for personal business. Every instinct in Seokjin was screaming at him that Seungcheol was not a threat.

At least right now.

“Look,” Seokjin sighed out. “I know no one likes coming to the doctor. I get it. People think of the doctor and they think of being uncomfortable, or having to get shots, or maybe something worse. And kids? They think they’re indestructible as it is. But sit Seungkwan down when you get the chance. Tell him that death is a lot worse than having to sit in an examination room for a few hours.”

“Oh, I’ll sit him down all right.”

There wasn’t a lot of bite or heat to Seungcheol’s words, just displeasure. Maybe guilt.

“It sounds obvious, right?” Seokjin asked. “But sometimes a kid needs to hear it from an outside source—especially someone he respects. If he won’t listen to you, maybe he’ll listen to an actual doctor or nurse practicioner.”

Sinking a little in his chair, Seungcheol shook his head and said lowly, “It’s that damn boyfriend of his—this little punk no one but Seungkwan likes. You know, Seungkwan was a good kid before he started dating. He liked learning. He made top marks in school. Now he’s out … dating. Dating. And dating people who teach him how to skateboard.” Seungcheol mumbled under his breath again about dating. “He’s doing it on purpose, too. Just to get at me. He’s dating someone in particular he knows I don’t like.”

Seokjin couldn’t help the big laugh that came from him. He saw so much of himself in Seungcheol suddenly that it was scary. Because Seokjin was terrified, absolutely terrified, of the day that Jungkook brought someone home to meet him. Seokjin wanted to say he’d be an adult. He wanted to promise that he’d be happy as long as Jungkook was happy.

But Seokjin was probably going to kill the first person that Jungkook got serous with. Or at least threaten to put them in the ground if they so much as upset Jungkook.

Trying to focus himself back on Seungkwan, Seokjin said, “I got the report from the hospital, after I had your brother transferred over there. From what I can see, everything looks good for Seungkwan’s future. His recovery looks normal, and I expect he’ll be back to riding skateboards and dating boys you don’t like in no time.”

“Thanks to you,” Seungcheol reminded bluntly.

“Right time, right place,” Seokjin repeated.

“No,” Seungcheol denied firmly. “You saved his life. You performed surgery just minutes after Seungkwan arrived. You kept him stable. You put him back together again. He’s alive because of you and this clinic.”

Seokjin saw no reason to be boastful, and he wasn’t typically anyway. “I did what any other doctor would in the situation.” And if Seokjin hadn’t been there, Jonghyun would have performed the operation.

Seungcheol regarded him quietly again, and this time it felt appraising.

“Everyone who knows who you are,” Seungcheol said evenly. “Everyone says you’re a bleeding heart.”

“You said that earlier,” Seokjin reminded.

“But they say it like it’s a bad thing.” Seungcheol leaned forward and put his elows on his knees. “The people I’ve talked to, they look at you like a bartering piece they’d like to get their hands on. You’re collateral, you know. You’re the real, deal, too. You’re someone a boss like Rap Mon would rip a city apart for. I don’t know if you really comprehend how much power that gives you.”

Seokjin felt himself rising to the challenge. “Anyone out there who thinks I’m easy to snatch up, and easier to dangle over Rap Mon, has another thing coming. I’m not inviting that kind of stupidity, but I’ll be more than happy to show them what that stupidity gets them, if they try it.”

“I’ve heard about your hand in what went down with Infinite.”

Seungcheol said their name so easily, and Seokjin was almost jealous of it. To this day, so many months after everything had gone down, Seokjin was still struggling to not look over his shoulder. Especially with members of Infinite still in the wind.

Seokjin said nonchalant, “Then you know I’m no pushover.”

“No,” Seungcheol agreed, “you’re a bleeding heart. And that’s what’s good about you.” Seungcheol got to his feet slowly. “This world needs more people like you, Doctor Kim.”

“People like me, in this world, S.Coups, tend to get trampled on.”

Seungcheol reached his hand out for Seokjin, and shook it firmly.

“See,” Seungcheol edged out, “that’s something unavoidable there, and it’s the real irony. We need the things we destroy most easily.”

Seokjin squeezed the man’s hand firm and offered, “Then stop acting so violently.”

Seungcheol surprised him then, and spiked fear into Seokjin’s heart as Seungcheol jerked him forward suddenly. The desk was braced between them, but Seokjin was off balance, and he couldn’t get his hand back.

“I’ve got someone like you,” Seungcheol offered up, and he said it like it wasn’t a secret. “Joshua’s just like you. Too kind. Too forgiving. Too …”

“Too much a bleeding heart?” Seokjin supplied. He didn’t pull back on Seungcheol’s grip, but he wasn’t giving the man another inch forward, either.

Seungcheol agreed, “Too easy to get trampled on.”

“And what do you do about that?”

Seungcheol’s grip lifted, and Seokjin leaned back.

“I surround him with people I trust, like Rap Mon does with you. And that’s the only way to do things. You trust in the people who are trustworthy, and you put them around the people you care the most about. That’s all you can do.” Seokjin startled a little as Seungcheol gave a low snort and added, “Or you get yourself a Jeonghan, and god help anyone who comes after someone he loves.”

There was a dymanic there that Seokjin couldn’t follow. He wasn’t sure what exactly Seungcheol was talking about now. But there was a kind, affectionate tone laced into his words, and a longing of some kind that reeked of pure, unabashed love.

“The only things in life worth having,” Seungcheol told him firmly, “are the things you’d lay down on a wire to protect. That includes my brother. You saved his life, and so I came down here to express my graditude.”

A card would have sufficed. And something didn’t seem right about a big gang leader strolling into his clinic just to say thank you.

Seokjin was certain the shoe was dropping when Seungcheol continued, “And, I wanted to make myself very clear that I owe you Seungkwan’s life. I owe you a favor.”

“I don’t need a favor,” Seokjin said right away. Infinite had insisted once that they owed him a life debt, but that hadn’t mattered much in the end when they’d still tried to kill him, so it was better to just not have that kind of connection to other gangs.

Seungcheol ignored him. “I’ll be gone by next week, and I’ll be taking my men with me. We’re much father down south than Bangtan is. But if you need something, and we can deliver, you only have to ask. I’m giving you my word on that.”

Seungcheol’s word didn’t mean anything to Seokjin. But clearly it meant something to Seungcheol, so Seokjin kept his opinion on the matter to himself.

Seungcheol turned towards the door, but didn’t move towards it. He only looked deep in thought.

“I would have saved him anyway,” Seokjin offered up. He moved to the left of his desk so he could still see Seungcheol’s face properly. “Even if I knew that was your brother, I would have saved him regardless. I would have done my best no matter who was lying on the floor of my clinic in pain. The other boy didn’t need to hide anything from us.”

“I know you would have,” Seungcheol said with confidence. “But that’s because of who you are. And I trained Dino better than that. Most people aren’t like you. Most people would have taken advantage of having my little brother’s life in their hands. So Dino did the right thing. Seungkwan is precious to me like you are to Rap Mon. I’d raze a city for my brother, I’d start a war, and I suspect you’d do the same for your own. Since the moment I found out I had a brother, I’ve never hidden what he means to me. And that, I suppose, makes me weak.”

“That doesn’t make you weak,” Seokjing insisted. Quite the opposite, he thought.

Seungcheol only shook his head. “Seungkwan would probably say the same thing. But that doesn’t make me wrong.”

There was so much bare honesty in what Seungcheol had said that Seokjin couldn’t begin to say otherwise.

“Let your boyfriend know I’m in town?”

Seokjin said in an unimpressed way, “I’m not in Bangtan, not officially. But even I know that’s not the proper way to go about announcing you’re in town.”

Seungcheol started for the door then, calling over his shoulder, “I’m not in town for official business. I’m just here as a tourist, you could say. Seventeen doesn’t have any reason to be here, so it’s just me, and a couple of my men. I don’t need to go to Rap Mon for that, and I won’t.”

“But?”

“But,” Seungcheol said with a grin, “it’s just good etiquette to let the boss in town know when you’re there, even if it’s not officially. So pass it along, if you could. If he wants to talk to me for any reason, I’m available. Otherwise I’ll keep my people on their best behavior, and we’ll be gone soon enough.”

Feeling the doctor in him edge to the surface, Seokjin said unflinchingly, “If your brother has any hiccups in his recovery while he’s here, or you just want to get him looked over, you bring him to see me. I’m here most days, and even if I’m not, I trust all of the doctors here. We’ll take good care of him.”

Seungcheol only breathed out, “Bleeding heart,” before he was opening the door to Seokjin’s office.

There were half a dozen of Bangtan’s men in the hallway, naturally, standing there quietly, almost awkwardly, with Taehyung at the forefront.

“Ah,” Seungcheol breathed out, “here’s the cavalry. I wondered if they were lurking around.” He craned his head to Seokjin and offered, “I suppose I should be grateful they didn’t kick the door down in the middle of our conversation.”

Taehyung, with a scowl set on his face that was menacing and all business, moved directly to stand before Seungcheol, and ground out, “Did you think we didn’t have eyes all over this place, S.Coups? Someone from another gang comes into town, and comes directly to a place he shouldn’t be, and you don’t think we’re going to know?”

Seokjin moved to intercept the two of them, nearly snapping out, “That’s enough, V. My guest was just on his way out.”

“Guest,” Taehyung said blandly.

“That’s what I said,” Seokjin said firmly. There would be no fighting, absolutely no fighting, in his clinic. No. “And now he’s leaving.”

Seokjin felt like he ceased to exist to both Taehyung and Seungcheol in that moment. Neither one of them was paying him any mind, and they were locked onto each other instead. Predictably. Seokjin expected posturing next.

“I am leaving,” Seungcheol said, but made no effort to budge an inch. “I just wanted to have a private conversation with the good doctor. That’s all.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed. “How about you have it with Rap Mon, instead. You have no right to be here.”

“Step aside then,” Seungcheol said, but it sounded more like bait than anything else. “And I’ll remove myself from the clinic. Did you want me to take my men, too? The ones I’ve had in the lobby for some time now? Within arm’s reach?”

Taehyung leveled back fiercely, “How about I have my men escort you all out? Straight to the sidewalk, where even more of Bangtan’s force will be waiting for you. Because accidents happen, right? When you go places you don’t belong, they can happen. So we’ll be here to make sure nothing terrible goes down. How many men do you have? Four? Five? Oh, look here, less than the number I have just standing in this hallway.”

 And there was the posturing.

“Get out of the way,” Seokjin snapped at Taehyung, and then practically shoved him to the side to make room for Seungcheol to pass.

“Accidents, huh?” Seungcheol said as he walked by. “Good thing I know a doctor, then.”

Seokjin could see Taehyung’s fingers curl into fists.

“Tae,” Seokjin said, so quiet his voice was like a whisper. He let his own fingers catch Taehyung’s wrist, and he felt the thundering pulse there.

Sometimes Seokjin had to remind himself that he wasn’t the only person who’d been so badly hurt by Infinite. They’d taken plenty of casualties, of course, but the psychological wounds ran so deep that some moments Seokjin would have given anything to study a different kind of medicine.

Taehyung never really spoke about carrying any scars from the events with Infinite. He continued to be his happy, always hungry, too empathetic self. But there were moments, brief snatches of time, like what was currently unfolding, when Seokjin could see the fear and anger and the trauma.

“It’s fine,” Seokjin also whispered. “I’m fine.”

“Fine is relative,” Taehyung told him in return. He gave a small but noticeable hand gesture, and half the men waiting in the hallway broke off from the group to go in the direction Seungcheol did.

And now Seokjin was done holding hands and being nice.

“You three,” he said to the other men still at Taehyung’s side, “you don’t need to be here. So I need you gone. My patients will only feel uncomfortable if they see you.”

“Don’t be mean to them,” Taehyung said, shifting just a little towards a less severe posture and one more playful. The tension was bleeding from him, thankfully.

“Don’t worry,” Seokjin assured him. “I have plenty of this attitude to go around. So now you can meet me in my office.”

Seokjin gave Taehyung a terrible pinch to the side, watched the others desert the hallway, and then met Joy’s eyes down the hall. She looked back at him with uncertainty, and a little fear, but then she gave him a nod and turned a corner.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Seokjin asked before the door had even properly closed. He was getting more use out of his office in one day, than he usually did in a week.

“Don’t be mad at me!” Taehyung said gruffly, throwing himself down into a chair. “Seriously. What’s your problem? I come in here to save you, to pull some gang member off you, and you’re treating him like he’s the victim? You’re treating me like I’m wrong?”

Seokjin pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back on the door. “Did you bring Namjoon’s men through the lobby?” He was already getting pictures in his mind of frightened patients.

Taehyung scoffed in irritation. “Really? You think I’d be that stupid?”

Taehyung had also, Seokjin had to credit, not kicked down his office door when he’d arrived. He could have barged right in. Seokjin almost never locked the door. But Taehyung had held back. He’d been cautious. And he’d saved them all some embarrassment by doing that. Maybe Hoseok was rubbing off on Taehyung more than anyone thought.

“I had to ask,” Seokjin asked. “Thank you for bringing everyone through the back door. But I will not thank you for bringing them period.”

Taehyung’s voice pitched as he demanded, “Why not?”

“Because I wasn’t in any danger!” Seokjin threw back. He’d spent forever trying to push a hovering, overprotective, constantly worried Namjoon away. And that was nothing compared to how Jimin and Jungkook had been with him when he’d gotten out of the hospital. He was not going to let anyone revert to coddling, just because an outside gang member had surfaced.

Taehyung looked far from convinced. “That’s not what it looked like from where I was standing.”

“On the other side of the door,” Seokjin pointed out. “Which you probably couldn’t hear much if anything through.”

Taehyung tapped out a rhythm on his leg with his fingers, looking impatient. “I know what got relayed to me the second the guy I had watching this place saw S.Coups surface. What was I supposed to think? That the guy was just coming in for some tea and a nice chat? Jin, just because things aren’t blowing up around us right now, doesn’t mean everything is safe. I reacted the way I’m supposed to react when I see a dangerous person intercepting someone I care about.”

Seokjin felt the defensive reaction in him fade into nothing but guilt then.

“It’s okay,” Seokjin said, sitting in the chair next to Taehyung, rather than across from him in his normal spot. “I get why you thought something bad was going on.”

“I don’t care if you think we’re all being overprotective jerks,” Taehyung bit out. “We’re not going through the shit that we dealt with before. That is not happening again. Not to you, or us.”

Seokjin let his head thump back on chair as he scooted even further down. “How about I second that.” He got it, really, he did. Things were never going to be prefect, or safe. He was never going to wake up in the morning and have no worries about the safety of people he cared about. But all the quiet and lack of activity was lulling Seokjin into imagining what it could be like. Taehyung, it appeared, wasn’t so lulled.

“What just happened?” Taehyung asked plainly.

“Seungcheol came here for personal reasons,” Seokjin said finally answered. “I treated a teenager the other day with a ruptured spleen. It was emergency surgery, and the kind that saved his life. I didn’t know at the time, but that kid was Choi Seungcheol’s younger brother. So that’s why he was here today. He wasn’t making threats. He wasn’t trying to intimidate me or hurt me. He was here to express his gratitude.”

Taehyung deadpanned, “Seriously?”

Seokjin let a smile crack. “Seriously.”

With his jaw hanging open, Taehyung asked, “Who does that? Seriously. Who does that?”

“Someone who cares more about thanking the doctor that saved his brother’s life, than who’s territory he might be intruding on.”

Taehyung deflated a little. “Okay, so that’s a decent excuse. But it still doesn’t make it okay that he just busted in here, knowing full well who you are. He did this to provoke Rap Mon as much as thank you, and don’t try and tell me otherwise. This was him taking a shot at Rap Mon, knowing there’d be no ramifications, just to prove he can.”

Seokjin shrugged on shoulder. “Maybe, maybe not. It could be he was provoking you for fun, because he could, and because you were an easy target. But none of that was happening when it was just the two of us in here. He was better mannered than I expected.”

Taehyung looked to be thinking for a moment, then offered, “Seventeen is pretty low profile. And they’ve got decent word of mouth. They’re not the most prolific out there, but they’re expanding at a good rate—though that has a lot to do with them being a little brother group.”

Seokjin frowned at that. “Little brother group?” That was terminology he wasn’t overly familiar with.

“They kind of emerged from a different group,” Taehyung explained. “Nu’est previously ran things where they’re from, but they’re taking a step back right now for a bunch of different reasons, and Seventeen rose up from within. It’s all sanctioned. None of it was by force. Maybe the two gangs will integrate eventually, or cohabitate, or take each other out. Who knows. But for now, Seventeen is eating up space and power down where they’re from, and Nu’est is the gang that opened the door for them.”

Seokjin hummed out acknowledgement.

“I guess,” Taehyung allowed, “if he was just here to say thank you, then I’m sorry for overreacting.”

“He’s in town for a wedding,” Seokjin told him. “Actually, he said quite a lot while he was in this room. He’s here until next week, he’s got his brother and a couple of members of Seventeen with him, and I don’t think he’s looking to cause trouble.”

“He wouldn’t be,” Taehyung agreed. “Not with Bagntan. Not with Exo and Bangtan fortifying this area. Even if Seventeen had big plans, which none of us think that, they wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and pull anything anytime soon.”

Sometimes Seokjin did wonder if Bangtan had only painted a bigger target on themselves. Namjoon had wanted to take Infinite out and stop them from spreading into Big Bang’s territory in order to make people safer. He’d wanted to secure the streets, and keep people safe, and make Bangtan such a force of good that people would think twice before taking them on.

But in a lot of ways, Bangtan had gone from a little upstart gang, to something gigantic and appealing as a target. Taking on a group like Bangtan now would mean the definition of bragging rights, and status, and that …

Seokjin suddenly understood why Jimin worried about little gangs banding together. Suddenly it was a lot clearer what was going through Jimin’s mind when he saw Up10tion and SF9 and Pentagon pulling their resources. With Exo and Bangtan standing together, there wasn’t any one gang out there that could even offer the smallest of threats. But a bunch of gangs put together?

Was Namjoon thinking about that at all?

“He did just honestly want to say thank you,” Seokjin told Taehyung with reinforced evenness in his voice. “And he says he owes me one. Whatever that means.”

“Might mean nothing,” Taehyung commented. “Or it could be useful down the line. Don’t throw away something like that, Jin. Gang leaders don’t give out IOUs very often.”

Seokjin glanced up at the white ceiling and said frankly, “I’ll trade all the IOUs in the world for other gangs just leaving me alone.”

“Well,” Taehyung declared, “I don’t care if S.Coups wants to come back here to thank you again for saving his brother. He’s not stepping foot back in this clinic. I’m going to double the number of people posted outside. And hey, have you given any more thought to my suggestion that you hire on one of my boys to work here? I’ve got two or three that have basic first aid knowledge that you could pass off as support staff.”

Seokjin looked to him and said sternly, “I’m not going to hire on any of Bangtan to work in this clinic just to make you feel less paranoid.”

“More thought then,” Taehyung mused. “I’ll leave you to give it more thought.”

Taehyung stood and Seokjin called after him, “You can stay a little if you want. I’m planning on just doing some walk-ins until I get off tonight.”

He also needed to take care of some paperwork that was seemingly glaring at him from his computer. Maybe he did need an assistant. The idea was starting to grow on him as the demands of the clinic did. If he had a secretary, someone he could trust with important documents, he could concentrate more on his patients.

He just wasn’t sure if the clinic had the budget for such a thing, or how any of the other doctors would react. He certainly didn’t need their permission to do such a thing, but it mattered to him that Seokjin kept everything fair and his staff happy. If Seokjin got a personal assistant, would Jonghyun want one? Did Jonghyun need one?

It was all too much to concentrate on in that moment.

“I mean it,” Seokjin said to Taehyung. “I’ll be here until six tonight. That’s when Jungkook’s coming to pick me up.” He needed dinner that night with Jungkook. He needed to catch up with his brother, and to simply relish in the comfort that was being near him.

Taehyung suddenly looked anxious.

“What?” Seokjin demanded.

“I think,” Taehyung edged out, “you’re going to meet up with your brother a lot sooner than tonight.”

“Taehyung?”

Taehyung walked briskly to the door. “What? Did you think I didn’t let my boss know something was potentially going down with his boyfriend? And come on, like Jungkook wouldn’t find out?”

Seokjin clambered up to his own feet. “Namjoon is coming here? Now?”

“I predict he’s about to blow through the front door at any second, expecting to have to rescue you from some nefarious evil gang leader. Jungkook’s probably going to be with him, too, because I could hear your brother shouting on the other end of the line when I called.” He rushed to add, “I just set him a text a minute ago that everything’s okay, but you know Rap Mon when it comes to you …”

“Great,” Seokjin sighed out. “Well, come on. Let’s get to the front.” He swept past Taehyung to open the door. As nice as the idea of seeing Namjoon during the daytime sounded, giving his boyfriend a stroke over impending doom, was not the preferred method of making it happen.

“Coming,” Taehyung called out.

Seokjin chided, “And pick up your pass from the front when we go by. You need to set an example. No one gets back here without a pass.” He hadn’t enforced that with Seungcheol, but he sort of thought that was a different situation. Seokjin expected better from Taehyung.

“Yes, dad,” Taehyung teased.

Seokjin pinched him again, harder than the first, and felt satisfaction when Taehyung gave a yelp of pain and surprise.

“So mean,” Taehyung accused.  “You’re lucky I was even willing to sweep in here to save you. Next time I might just let some guy kidnap you again.”

“Seems unlikely,” Seokjin said, catching Taehyung’s gaze and giving him a warm grin.

Taehyung smiled back in an authentic way, and Seokjin was thankful now for the way Taehyung had been determined to come to his rescue. Even if he’d been wrong, and Seokjin had been irritated at first, it only served to prove how much Taehyung cared about him, and what they meant to each other.

As they headed down the hall, Seokjin promised, “If you help me talk Namjoon down from the aneurysm he’s surely having, I’ll let you into the stash of candy we save for the kids. Deal?”

Taehyung laughed out, “I take everything I said back. You’re the best.” He beamed brightly, shinning almost like the sun. And for one dreadful second, Seokjin recalled what Seungcheol had said about laying down on a wire for a loved one.

Because Taehyung? Taehyung was looking at him like he’d do it in an instant.

And Seokjin? Seokjin was terrified that day might come around one day, and there’d be nothing he could do to stop it.


	5. Chapter Five

“I should be forcing kale down your throat right now,” Seokjin said with narrowed eyes as he took in the form of his brother sitting across from him. “You don’t look like you deserve steak.”

Five hours earlier Seokjin had been anxiously waiting for Jungkook to blow into his clinic with the expectation of a firefight.

“I’ve been texting Jungkook and Rap Mon like crazy,” Taehyung had said, standing shoulder to shoulder with Seokjin just fifteen minutes after Seungcheol had left the building. Taehyung had a cherry lollipop hanging out of the corner of his mouth, and was being far too smug about it. Seokjin had said he could have some of the candy they kept for children after he helped talk Namjoon down from a ledge. But maybe Taehyung knew him too well, which was why he’d snagged a handful of candy well before that happened, and not very covertly, either.

“They’re not responding?” Seokjin had asked. Business at the clinic was going on like normal, but all of that could change when Namjoon arrived.

“They’re getting my messages alright,” Taehyung confirmed. “They’re marked as read. I just don’t think either of them believes me when I say you’re perfectly fine, and Choi Seungcheol—S.Coups, came by just for a chat.”

“Shocking,” Seokjin had said lowly and dryly.

Thankfully, mercifully, when Namjoon and Jungkook had arrived, with too many people in tow to count, they hadn’t just stormed the building and humiliated Seokjin.

Instead Seokjin had been standing to the side of Yoona’s work station, barely visible to the patients out in the waiting room, but very visible from the entrance. He’d been able to relay in just one quick glance, when Namjoon had come through the sliding doors of the clinic with determination carrying him at a swift pace, that everything was okay.

Namjoon, in a deceptively comfortable looking and relaxed way, had leaned on the patient side of the high counter in front of Yoona’s station, and asked Seokjin, “You’ve had company?” There was the hint of sweat on his forehead then, but no outward signs that he was about to lose control.

“I did,” Seokjin had returned, looking over Namjoon’s shoulder for Jungkook. Most of Namjoon’s men had remained outside, and the few that had followed him inside, were doing a pretty decent job of blending in with the other patients. Nothing looked too out of place, and almost no one even seemed tipped off to who Namjoon was.

Namjoon had relayed, sensing Seokjin’s wandering thoughts, “He’s going around the back. We weren’t sure what we were walking into, so I sent Jungkook to the back entrance, to see if there were any surprises waiting there.”

“No surprises,” Seokjin had said in a weary way, and then he’d done his best to quickly and concisely explain what had gone down.

Naturally, Namjoon had been less than convinced that things were perfectly fine at the clinic, but Seokjin chalked that up to Namjoon’s natural state of worry, and recent events that had pushed everyone into constant anxiety.

And then Seokjin had seen Jungkook.

“You’re lucky I’m even speaking to you,” Seokjin told Jungkook currently, peering at him across the dinner table.

He’d gotten his first look at Jungkook in days, earlier, and the bruising to his face was just as jarring now as it had been then.

His nose scrunching up, Jungkook pointed out, “You can’t get mad at me for doing my job.”

Seokjin felt a spike of anger. “Your job is not to be someone’s punching bag.”

The doctor in him was barely contained at the moment, and the big brother in him was not.

There wasn’t just discoloration to Jungkook’s face either. There was real swelling along the left side of Jungkook’s jaw, and his left eye was definitely going to be black in no time. He looked like he’d had his face smashed into something solid, and that wasn’t something Seokjin could bring himself to imagine.

After Namjoon had finally been talked down from going off to hunt for Seungcheol, Seokjin had made Jungkook sit through an extensive examination, complete with x-rays. Then he’d put his brother in proverbial time-out at the clinic and told Jungkook, “You’d better speak to Namjoon right now and beg off the rest of the day.”

Seokjin wasn’t letting Jungkook out of his sight now, not after seeing his injuries, no matter what Jungkook might have been in the middle of.

“I’m not someone’s punching bag,” Jungkook replied, stabbing his fork into the slab of meat beautifully presented in front of him.

“You sure look like it.”

Jungkook sighed. “Jin.”

“What,” Seokjin snapped, unable to look away from the bruising. “Did you think I wasn’t going to be upset when I saw you?” He wasn’t just upset, either. He was angry. He just didn’t know if he was angry at Jungkook for getting into obvious trouble, or Namjoon for likely placing him in it.

Quietly, Jungkook said, “I’m okay. Look at me, you know I’m okay. You examined me. You got all those scans of my face. This is all superficial. I’m perfectly fine.”

Seokjin might have gone a little overboard when he’d seen the extent of the bruising on Jungkook’s face. While his brother had been laying in the designated area for the scan, Seokjin had been in the observation room, with Jessica next to him, and he’d asked, “You’re not seeing any structural damage, right?”

Jessica had confirmed confidently that Jungkook was only suffering from some pretty impressive bruising that were cosmetic in nature only, but that hadn’t done much to calm Seokjin’s nerves.

“And you’re going to go to school like that?” Seokjin demanded. He had an expensive steak in front of him that was going cold. His appetite had disappeared before he’d even ordered. “With your face looking like that?”

Trying for a joke, Jungkook told him, “You think I look bad, you should see the other guy. He’s actually got a broken face.”

Seokjin gripped his silverware tightly. That was not a comfort.

More honest, Jungkook said, “I know my face doesn’t look good, but I don’t have class tomorrow.”

“You’ll look worse by the day after.” The bruises on Jungkook’s face were still red and puffy. The trauma was still evident. But in another forty-eight hours he’d be a yellow-green. Then he’d be black and blue. “Your teachers …”

“I don’t care what they think,” Jungkook told Seokjin. “And they don’t care what I look like. Not really. They care that I show up, and I do the work, and I prove to them that I’m deserving of being there. That’s what I plan to do, and what my face looks like doesn’t impact that at all. So stop worrying, okay? I can still see just fine, which means I’ll knock my homework out like always.”

This was not about homework. But Seokjin was too busy stuffing his worry down to argue the matter.

Chuckling nervously, Jungkook said, “I’m kind of glad Rap Mon was busy tonight and couldn’t join us. I mean, it’s nice to get my big brother to myself for once, but also, I’m a little afraid you might lean over the table and stab him in the throat with that knife you’re holding … the knife you kind of look like you might be fantasizing about stabbing me with. Should I sit back?”

Seokjin hadn’t been able to make himself ask before, but he’d been building his courage steadily since the start of the meal, so now he dared to wonder, “What happened?”

“A fight,” Jungkook said right away.

“I figured that out by myself,” Seokjin huffed out.

Uncertain, Jungkook told him, “You usually don’t want to know any details, Jin. You hardly ever ask.”

“Well,” Seokjin countered, “you don’t usually get yourself beat up like this. Don’t you usually have someone watching your back? Where the hell was Jimin?”

Jungkook, who looked even less like a child now than Seokjin had been willing to consider before, defended, “Hey, he was there, okay? This could have been a lot worse, but he was there, and so was Suga. There were a lot of us there.”

Then what had happened?

Frustrated, Seokjin said, “That doesn’t sooth me, if you still came out looking like that. Seriously, Jungkook. Tell me what happened before I go and freak out on Namjoon and start a fight with him.”

This was the problem ultimately, Seokjin had worked out long ago. It was a narrow line to walk with Jungkook being in Bangtan. Because Seokjin was protective. He knew he could be that way to a fault, and Jungkook being in Bangtan meant he had to relinquish a lot of his worry to Namjoon. And Namjoon? He had to put Jungkook into potentially dangerous situations, knowing what it would mean for Seokjin’s relationship with him, and making that line a lot narrower than it would have been with anyone else.

Jungkook leveled an elbow up on the table and put his chin in his palm, saying, “I really wish you wouldn’t, okay? The last time you guys had a serious fight you got even more crabby and motherly, and Rap Mon got mean like I’ve never seen before.”

Seokjin balked “Motherly?”

He’d stayed with Jungkook and Jimin during that time, but he didn’t think he’d gone into motherly territory.

“Motherly,” Jungkook confirmed. “You were breathing down my neck about bathing all the time, and picking up after myself, and eating healthy. I kicked my shoes across the room once and you practically went nuclear on me. You’re not always like that, right? As a roommate, I mean. Rap Mon doesn’t actually put up with that, does he?”

Seokjin had to remind himself that he and Jungkook had never really lived together, not outside of when they were kids. And when they’d been younger, they’d lived with nannies, and cooks, and even a bodyguard once when their father had been receiving some threats from work related investigations. But Seokjin had moved away as soon as he’d been old enough for college, and Jungkook was younger than him by just enough that his memories of life together were probably few and far between.

“You’re a mother to live with,” Jungkook added bluntly.

Seokjin didn’t know that was something Jungkook could really say, considering he didn’t have many memories of their mother, and had no clue what it meant to live with her.

Seokjin defended indignantly, “I didn’t hear Jimin complaining.”

In fact, Jimin had been vocally appreciative, and that was something that didn’t happen often with him. Seokjin just didn’t know if it as because Jimin truly liked having someone take care of him, or if it was related to another matter completely.

The matter, naturally, that they didn’t talk about.

Tiredly, Seokjin said, “I’m not going to stab anyone with a knife. I’m not going to get into a fight with Namjoon, either. I just want to know what you’re into that’s hurt you like this. And then I want you to promise me you’ll steer clear in the future.”

Huffy, Jungkook reminded, “I’m not a baby, Jin. You can’t mother me. I’m an adult. And the messes I get into, they’re mine to get myself out of.”

“You’re a brat, not an adult,” Seokjin corrected. “Now tell me.”

He’d said he wasn’t going to fight with Namjoon, but now it felt like a poor choice of words. Because he was going rip Namjoon’s head off if Jungkook had been ordered into an exceptionally dangerous mess.

Jungkook took a deliberate bite of his steak, buying time. He chewed annoyingly and stared Seokjin down. The standoff occurring between them folded when Seokjin took a bite of his own meat. Even cooled down, it was still fantastic.

“It’s about Infinite,” Jungkook said finally, and Seokjin froze. “What happened, Jin. It’s about Infinite.”

Seokjin practically choked on his steak as he tried to swallow it down. “Infinite.”

Looking worried, Jungkook asked, “You still want to know, or you want to drop the subject?” He said the words casually, like either option didn’t matter, but Seokjin knew that was a lie. Jungkook was just as sensitive to the topic of Infinite as Seokjin was.

The panic that Seokjin had fought to push down, reared back up suddenly, and he asked, “Did you run into them? Myungsoo? Or Dongwoo?” Hoya, as far as the last time Seokjin had checked—which was less than a week ago, was still being held in police custody and waiting to be charged with a myriad of crimes.

But Myungsoo and Dongwoo? They were in the wind. No one had so much as head a rumor about them in the past months, and Seokjin hated the not knowing more than anything else. They’d gone to ground, but they could pop up and strike at any moment.

They had to be planning something, too. Their gang was decimated, but if Seokjin were either of them, he’d be sticking around for revenge.

“No,” Jungkook breathed out, much to Seokjin’s relief. “It wasn’t either of them.”

“But?”

Jungkook worked another piece of meat free with this knife and fork.

Seokjin guessed for his brother, “You ran into a stronghold of their men, didn’t you?” It was the only plausible explanation.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped and Seokjin had his answer.

Kim Sunggyu was dead. He’d blown his own brains out in Namjoon’s kitchen, with Seokjin standing only a few feet away. And that had come after Bangtan and Exo had made such a push on Infinite that the gang had been effectively wiped out.

But Infinite had been a wide and far reaching gang. They’d had more members than most gangs did, and while a lot of Infinite’s men had been killed or fled, some of them had gone to ground, too. Part of the reason Namjoon had been hovering so incessantly was because a significant number of Infinite’s men were unaccounted for. 

There was a lower than average chance that anyone was going to spring out of the shadows hellbent on murdering him in the name of revenge, but Seokjin didn’t exactly feel safe, either.

The bottom line was that Infinite still had more than a worrying number of men out there, loyal to Myungsoo, or Dongwoo, or Hoya, or whoever would eventually rise up to try and put that gang back together. And occasionally, not that Namjoon really ever spoke of it, Bangtan was able to track down pockets of these men.

“Did you find a lot of them then?” Seokjin asked. Jungkook was a decent brawler. He was better than Seokjin wanted to think about, and he knew that since Jungkook had started up with Bangtan, he’d been taking classes to improve his hand-to-hand. Not only that, Seokjin also knew Jungkook had been spending hours at the shooting range. So when it came to Jungkook handling himself in a fight, Seokjin logically knew there was some silver lining in his brother’s skills.

But Jungkook, no matter how skilled he became, was still his little brother. And any one person could be overwhelmed if the odds against them were too much.

“There were a lot,” Jungkook confirmed. “Way more than we’ve ever found before. Suga thinks they were trying to get something going again, under the name Infinite. There were a lot of higher ranking guys there. Any one of them could have been carrying messages from Myungsoo or Dongwoo.”

Tensely, Seokjin asked, “So you just kicked down the door and …”

“We did what we had to do,” Jungkook said with resolve. “And of those guys would have taken you out in a second, Jin. You know they all know what you look like, who you are, and how much we love you. I don’t know who’s in charge of Infinite now, but if I was, I’d be gunning for you. So that’s why we were there, doing what we had to.”

Seokjin took no pleasure in the idea that Jungkook had killed for him, or in his name. Seokjin took no pleasure in the idea of Jungkook killing. Period.

“I will assume,” Seokjin managed to say, “that whoever coordinated this on our side, brought enough men. Even if you all didn’t expect there to be so many men there, how did you end up so battered?”

Jungkook clarified, “We expected seven or eight of them. There were over a dozen. And yeah, we handled the situation okay. We didn’t take any casualties, only a few injuries, but ammo ran out pretty fast. After that, it was all fists. Some guy got the jump on me. It’s as simple as that. It happens.”

Seokjin didn’t like that phrase. Things didn’t just happen. Or they did, and accidents happened after that.

Seokjin had put his mother in the ground. His sister. His father.

He was not putting Jungkook in the ground.

His brain caught up to the rest of the words Jungkook had said, and he demanded, “Namjoon’s men were hurt? When was this? Earlier today? Why didn’t you bring these men to me?”

“It wasn’t anything too bad,” Jungkook said promptly. “A couple of broken bones, someone got a knife to the thigh, and another guy just had a concussion. Nothing was life threatening.”

“That’s for me to decide,” Seokjin said, offended that he’d been bypassed completely. These were Namjoon’s men, and Seokjin loved Namjoon. Seokjin couldn’t do a lot to aid Bangtan, but he could be there medically for them.

Jungkook gave a physical hesitation, then admitted, “Suga said not to get you involved. He called it, and Rap Mon agreed. They decided that keeping your clinic separate from Bangtan’s business is kind of the only way to go right now. If you think otherwise, take it up with Rap Mon. But he’s kind of told us all that outside of emergencies, we have to use other doctors.”

There were other, competent doctors in the area. Seokjin was not so delusional or egotistical to think that he was the only option. But he felt a certain kind of … ownership, over the right to treat Bangtan. These were the men who’d put their lives on the line for him. They’d protected him. They watched out for each other.  They protected Jungkook and Namjoon.

“I will,” Seokjin said sharply. “But in the meantime, if you or the people you’re with have so much as a papercut, you come and see me. If I find out that you go to anyone else, when you could be coming to me, you’ll really see what a mother I can be.”

Jungkook put his hands up in surrender. “Okay. Okay. But Jin, it’s not like a papercut can kill. Calm down.”

Seokjin pointed out, “A papercut can become infected, in worst case scenarios leading to sepsis of the blood, and ultimately death.”

Jungkook burst out laughing, and it was so infectious that Seokjin followed suit.

With levity, and a smile on his face, Jungkook said, “We really were safe about it, Jin. I promise you. I know you think I just charge into situations without using my head, but Suga’s not like that. He wouldn’t let us go in on those Infinite guys without a plan. And yeah, I took a couple hits to the face, but Jimin was there a second later to pull that guy off me. I know it doesn’t do a lot to comfort you, knowing what I do, but I have people watching my back. And Bangtan is family. You know that, Jin.”

There was no going back to how things had been before, Seokjin told himself again and again. There was no going back to a time before Bangtan, and Infinite, and the gangs in general. Not unless he wanted to give up his clinic and move back to the affluent part of Seoul to live like a princess in a tower. So if that was the case, at least Bangtan was family. At least there were people watching out for each other, caring about each other, and acting like the family they claimed to be.

“Jin?”

Seokjin took a deep breath, and then he could only offer, “Tell Jimin to watch your back a little more thoroughly, or else he’ll have to deal with me.”

A smile cracked on Jungkook’s face. “You sure you want me to tell him that? He just started acting like he likes you—just started liking you, I mean. You know how he is. If you smother him, he’s going to kick out at you like a horse.”

“I’ll smother him with a pillow,” Seokjin said surely, “if he doesn’t watch after you more carefully. You’re right, I can’t stop you from doing what you do. You decided a while ago the path you wanted to go down. And sure, this isn’t the life I would have chosen for you, but I respect your right to choose it. I just expect that if you’re going to put yourself into danger, that the people with you are going to be a little more aware of what’s going on.”

Jungkook gave a grunt of agreement as he ate more of his meal, and Seokjin figured that was as good as it got.

In a final kind of way, he asked, “Did you get them? Did you take a chunk out of what’s left of Infinite?”

“Suga thinks so,” Jungkook offered. “There’s no way to know exactly how many men Infinite still has, but this was a big bust.  If Myungsoo or Dongwoo are planning something, this set them back, which is nothing but good for us.”

With some relief, Seokjin let the matter go. He didn’t have any more questions for Jungkook about Infinite. He didn’t want to pry anymore.

Elbow still up on the table in a way that made Seokjin want to knock it off, Jungkook leveled out, “So are you seriously telling me that the leader of Seventeen just stopped by to say hi to you? Do you have any idea how impossible that sounds?”

Seokjin liked that he could laugh about it now, even though his heart had been in his stomach while it was happening.

“I was there and I don’t really believe it,” Seokjin confessed. “But it’s true.”

Jungkook said knowingly, “Rap Mon thought for sure that Seventeen was making a threat and using you to do it. Now I think he’s more worried that you just kind of attract gang leaders too easily and make them like you.”

“Sunggyu did not like me,” Seokjin pointed out. “He kept me alive for a reason, and only one that benefited him and his goals.”

Jungkook shrugged. “For him, that’s kind of liking someone. And Suho likes you. Now S.Coups likes you. Could you knock it off? You’re making it look too easy to get gang bosses to like you, and you’re going to give your boyfriend a stroke doing it.”

Seokjin hardly thought being on cordial terms with certain men of power and influence equated to anything more than a working relationship. He loved Namjoon, and Namjoon loved him, but Suho was just a mutual contact. And Seungcheol seemed less than that.

“Just eat your food,” Seokjin said, pointing at the plate in front of Jungkook that was half full still. “If you’re making me pay an arm and a leg for this meal that you insisted you deserved, then at least let me get my money’s worth.”

Jungkook grinned.

The rest of the meal, much to Seokjin’s agreement, was lighter in terms of conversation. Seokjin kept Jungkook up to date with the recent developments at the clinic, and how the new employees were getting on. And in turn, Jungkook filled Seokjin in on his schoolwork, his classes, and how much more he was enjoying the lazy and relaxed summer semester, than the more frantic spring and the taxing fall semesters.

It felt good to just sit down and have a conversation with Jungkook. It felt good to relax in his brother’s company, and enjoy their relationship. They were siblings, of course, but more than that, they were best friends. He didn’t think many siblings could say that, but Seokjin was proud to.

After dinner Seokjin drove Jungkook home. He didn’t take the long way around, even though he wanted to, and not twenty minutes after they’d left the restaurant, Seokjin parked them in front of the apartment Jungkook shared with Jimin.

There were lights shining out from a second-floor window, and that told Seokjin that Jimin was already home. Seokjin had half a mind to go in there and remind him about watching Jungkook’s back properly.

The thing was, Seokjin was angry about Jungkook getting hurt, but he knew Jimin was always watching out for his brother to the best of his ability. Jimin would never let anything happen to someone he considered family, and that extended easily to Jungkook.

So Seokjin dropped that thought immediately.

 Instead, he said to Jungkook before his brother could hop out of the car, “I’m thinking of going to see Dad next weekend.”

Jungkook’s fingers paused on the latch to the door. Seokjin knew he’d caught his brother off guard.

“We haven’t been in a couple of months,” Seokjin reminded. “We need to go more often. We owe a lot to him. Including that fancy little car of yours I see from where I’m parked.”

He gestured to the black Audi that Jungkook drove to school. While Seokjin still thought it was ridiculous that Jungkook had such a nice car at his age, provided by their father’s legacy, even Seokjin had to admit that Jungkook was rather good about using the car practically. He really only drove it to school or on the weekends, and he was more inclined to get a ride, than drive anywhere himself.

Jungkook’s body was stiff as he breathed out, “Oh. You’re right. It has been a while.”

Previous to their father dying, Seokjin and Jungkook, usually accompanied by their father, had made the trip out to the family plot once a year, on the anniversary of the accident. But now their father was interred with the other family members, and Seokjin was far more attentive to visiting.

“Will you go with me?” Seokjin asked. Jungkook hadn’t been able to go the last time Seokjin had, but Namjoon had made time to accompany him, so it hadn’t been horrible to travel out and pay his respects. Seokjin just wanted Jungkook to get into a habit of going. He wanted the trip to mean as much to the both of them.

Jungkook glanced back at Seokjin and admitted, “I know I should be better at going. I know you shouldn’t have to remind me.”

Seokjin replied, “Visiting deceased loved ones is not an easy thing, Jungkook. Even when you get to say goodbye properly, like we did.”

With a deep breath, Jungkook said, “Can we go in the afternoon?”

“Yeah,” Seokjin said gently. “We can go in the afternoon. Thanks.”

Jungkook pushed open the door to the car, but paused to ask before getting out, “You gonna come up and lecture Jimin or something?”

“Ha-ha,” Seokjin said flatly, pushing at Jungkook to get out of the ar.

“Love you, too,” Jungkook snuck out, then he shut the door and started the jog up to the second floor of the apartment building.

By the time Seokjin got back to his own apartment it was much later than he usually went home. He’d let himself linger with Jungkook, and his nighttime routine was paying for it. But Namjoon wasn’t home yet, he rarely was before Seokjin anyway, so Seokjin readied for bed slowly.

He was lying in bed, probably minutes from dozing off, with his e-reader going to sleep in his hands from inactivity, when he heard the front door open. He held his breath until he heard the jingle of Namjoon’s keys being set down, and the thuds of him kicking his shoes off.

“You’re still awake,” Namjoon said guiltily when he made it to the bedroom fifteen minutes after that. Seokjin had heard him stop in the kitchen at some point, and then the hallway likely to go through some mail that had been delivered.

Seokjin gave him an easy smile and set his e-reader to the side. “You know I like to wait up for you if I can.”

Namjoon pulled his shirt over his head and stripped his pants off.

Seokjin let himself enjoy the view as Namjoon climbed into bed wearing only his underwear. It never failed to stir desire up in him when he saw the lean lines of Namjoon’s body, and the muscle definition. And if he hadn’t been so tired, he might have made a move on Namjoon.

But there was weariness radiating from Namjoon as much as Seokjin felt personally, so he couldn’t imagine being intimate until the both of them had had some decent sleep.

“Is it safe to get in here with you?” Namjoon asked jokingly, lifting the blankets and scooting under. He pressed himself up against Seokjin almost right away, tucking in easily.

“Depends,” Seokjin replied. “Did you run off today and stir up trouble with Choi Seungcheol?”

“Can you not say his name like you’re besties?”

Seokjin elbowed Namjoon back a little from his personal space. “Did you want me to use his gang name? Come on, don’t be ridiculous. He introduced himself by his given name, he was absolutely respectful to me the entire time he was there, and you’re over here getting flustered about a name.”

“I am not flustered,” Namjoon denied.

“You’re getting worked up,” Seokjin allowed. He let himself sink a little more into the mattress and said, “You’re getting worked up over nothing.”

“To you it’s nothing.” Namjoon scooted down in the bed, his nose nudging at Seokjin’s shoulder. “But look at it from my perspective, okay? You … because of me, you’ve gotten dragged into all kinds of things.”

Seokjin snorted and decided, “More likely because of Jungkook.”

Namjoon was not swayed as he said, “You’ve been in danger because of me. Even if you’re choosing to be a part of this kind of life, even if we both know we can’t control other people, the fact of the matter is that your life has been seriously threatened multiple times.”

Seokjin let himself pull Namjoon closer at those words. Even if he was angry at Namjoon for being overprotective, he did understand why it happened. He got it.

“I love you,” Namjoon said, his tone dropping as he leaned up to kiss Seokjin. It was a kiss that lasted only a second before Namjoon continued, “I don’t think you have any idea how much I love you. I’ve known you were the one for a long time, maybe from the start, but it’s really impossible for me to even use words to explain how much I love you.”

“Namjoon,” Seokjin tried.

“I would do anything for you,” Namjoon pressed on. “I’d do anything you asked, and I’d give you anything you wanted. Sometimes it scares me how much I love you.”

Seokjin let his hand seek out Namjoon’s under the blankets, and he threaded their fingers.

“But you say you want space,” Namjoon told him, tangling their feet together. “So, despite how much anxiety letting you out of my sight causes, I give you space. I keep my men back from you. I don’t have you followed around. And I try my best not to act like an absolute creep who keeps tabs on his boyfriend. I give you space.”

“Most of the time,” Seokjin teased.

Namjoon made a soft noise at the back of his throat. “But today…today in came someone who had no place being near you—someone dangerous.”

“He wa—”

“Jin,” Namjoon said firmly, so strongly he nearly jarred Seokjin. “Just because S.Coups was nice to you, does not mean he isn’t capable of breaking your neck with his bare hands to get at me. You are the only real way to get to me, and now everyone knows that. So today, if only for a couple of minutes, I thought my worst fear was coming true. I thought someone was making a play for you again. I thought someone was going to rip my heart out. I thought…”

Seokjin felt Namjoon’s chest rise sharply.

“He was there to thank me for saving his brother’s life,” Seokjin said, putting his free hand on Namjoon’s chest to stabilize him. “But I do understand that he could have been there for some other reason completely.  And if he had been, you should know that Taehyung was brilliant. You need to recognize that. He had your people in there, ready to help if need be, and he did it in a smart way. He had them go through the back so they didn’t upset any patients or cause a scene. And he used his brain, waiting in the hallway first to assess the situation, and he didn’t just kick down a door which could have instigated a situation.”

A small smile lit on Namjoon’s face. “That kid can use his brain, when he wants to. And his instincts are getting better all the time.”

Seokjin’s fingers scratched light and lazily across Namjoon’s chest. “I know why you’re so paranoid all the time. I know why you’re so worried. That’s why I give you the leeway that I do. That’s why I do my best to understand and accept.”

“I am not going to lose you,” Namjoon ground out, “because I got lax with your safety.”

Seokjin was happy enough to let silence permeate the air between them.

Eventually, however, Namjoon said, “I wanted to go after S.Coups today. I almost did.”

“That would have been ill advised,” Seokjin suggested.

“That’s what J-Hope said,” Namjoon chuckled out.

“But?” Seokjin prompted hopefully.

“But I didn’t,” Namjoon admitted. “S.Coups overstepped, and he damn well knows he did. He was poking the bear today, and he’s lucky I’ve got a lot of smart people around me, telling me not to poke back. But, I guess at the very heart of it all, even I have to admit he didn’t do anything to warrant a severe response. He didn’t hurt you. He didn’t threaten you. And he is here on personal business.”

Curiously, Seokjin asked, “So what did you do after you left the clinic?”

Seokjin didn’t miss the brief tightening of muscles that rippled through Namjoon’s body before he relaxed.

“I talked to Suho about S.Coups,” Namjoon said. “And then there was some other business to handle. If you want to hear about it all, I’ll tell you. It’s just pretty tedious and boring.”

Seokjin had known Namjoon long enough to know when the man was trying to push Seokjin away from a topic. And he wasn’t very good at it, either. There was no doubt in Seokjin’s mind that Namjoon was trying to dissuade Seokjin from asking about his movements that day, by offering to.

Seokjin decided to have pity on him and not bite.

Instead, he praised, “I’m glad you decided to think things through, and listen to the smart people you surround yourself with, and not go off and make trouble. Don’t we have bigger issues to deal with than one guy coming to talk to me when he knows he shouldn’t? Aren’t Infinite’s leftover men a bigger deal?”

Seokjin could feel Namjoon grimace.

“Yeah,” Seokjin eased out. “Now we’re going to talk about that. And that’s the topic you should really be scared of. Because I wasn’t going to make a scene in the clinic earlier when I saw Jungkook’s face for the first time. But I am willing to kick up a fuss in the privacy of our home.”

“Jiiinnnnn.”

“Don’t you Jin me,” Seokjin said, sitting up in bed. He twisted towards Namjoon. “You ordered my brother into a situation where someone clearly tried to pound his face in. Did you think I wasn’t going to be angry over that?”

Weakly, Namjoon said, “Suga’s the one who gave the order there.”

“And who exactly is Yoongi’s boss?”

Namjoon rubbed at his eyes tiredly.

“Someone pummeled his face with their fists,” Seokjin snapped out. “Someone did that to my baby brother, and you gave the okay.”

“I did,” Namjoon said right back to him, more serious now, sitting up as well. “I did what I had to do. I gave an order I needed to give. And your brother is a member of this gang, so he followed the order given. That’s just how it is, Jin.”

A little frantic, Seokjin demanded, “And what if things had gone poorly? What if …” What if Jungkook had been hurt more terribly? Or worse.

“That is a risk,” Namjoon agreed. “But you’re sitting there looking at me like I just decided to do this on a whim. I didn’t, Jin. This was planned out, and coordinated. It was well thought through, and it was a calculated but necessary risk. If you want me to be sorry, that’s not going to happen.”

Seokjin crossed his legs under him and leaned his elbows on his knees. He didn’t think he wanted Namjoon to be sorry, but it was hard to tell. His feelings for Jungkook were constantly interfering for the ones he had for Namjoon, when it came to Bangtan’s business.  

“Jin,” Namjoon sighed out. He touched Seokjin’s shoulder gingerly. “I wouldn’t put any of my men, least of all Jungkook, in danger if I didn’t think it was necessary. But don’t sit there like you didn’t know Jungkook was going to be doing dangerous things, or potentially getting hurt.”

Fiercely, Seokjin said, “I know that, Namjoon. Don’t sling your self-righteous rhetoric at me about the greater good and acceptable risks. I know. But that is my brother, Namjoon. That is my baby brother, and every second he’s in danger—especially danger you give the okay on, I am going to be upset. Don’t tell me not to be upset. You have no idea what it is to watch your brother risk his life for an idea.”

Affronted, Namjoon demanded, “An idea?”

“That’s what Bangtan is,” Seokjin countered. “Bangtan is an idea. It’s a noble one, but it’s just an idea. It’s the idea that streets can be safer, and people can live without fear. And I think that’s a good idea to invest in, but I don’t want to give my brother up for an idea. Even a good one.”

Namjoon’s hand fell away from the skin at Seokjin’s shoulder.

Namjoon didn’t speak for some time, and when he did, it was to say, “I play favorites with Jungkook.”

Seokjin turned to him in confusion.

“Because of you,” Namjoon confessed.  “You are the love of my life. You are the reason I keep going, even when I don’t want to. I want to marry you some day. I want to grow old with you. I want everything with you. And Jungkook is your little brother. So yes, I play favorites with him, when I know I shouldn’t, and it’s not fair to the others. I do it anyway. I don’t put him in the really dangerous situations. I have him hang back when things are particularly nasty. And when he makes a mistake, I don’t go in on him as hard as I would anyone else.”

Seokjin breathed out raggedly.

“I already do that for you.” Namjoon’s voice was quiet now. Unnaturally quiet. “But when I need Jungkook out there, I’m going to put him out there. Jin, he wants to be out there. So you have to try and accept that. You can’t be angry at me for it. You can’t be angry at your brother. This is how it is. Jungkook chose this just like you’re choosing to be with me.”

Seokjin wanted to be comforted by the words. He really did.

“You don’t have to agree,” Namjoon said finally. “You just have to accept.”

“Accept the danger?”

Namjoon nodded. “Accept the danger. But also accept that I’m me. Accept that I don’t risk lives needlessly. I value all my people, and I do my best to keep them safe. Yes, Jungkook is going to be in dangerous situations again. Yes, he might get hurt.  But I’m always going to be here trying to prevent that. And so will every other person out there with him.”

An unexpected sob heaved its way up Seokjin’s throat then, and he only just managed to swallow it back down.

He was barely holding himself together as he whispered, “I’ve buried everyone else in my family. I can’t lose Jungkook, too. Don’t you understand?”

It was only a half second later before Namjoon’s strong and warm arms wrapped around him. Then Namjoon’s voice was in his ear, assuring, “I do. You know I do. I’d give anything to have my grandparents back, Jin. Anything.”

Seokjin felt so embarrassed then, to have said such a thing to Namjoon. Of course Namjoon knew. He knew better than most.

“Just do your best,” Seokjin said, reaching up to anchor onto Namjoon’s arms. “I know I have to accept what Jungkook does—what you have to order him to do. And I can’t stop myself from worrying, or getting angry. But just … please, please, do your best to keep him safe. It’s not fair to ask you to keep playing favorites, but please.”

Namjoon held him tightly for minutes more, and it felt good.

“I promise,” Namjoon said. He kissed the side of Seokjin’s head. “I promise you.”

Seokjin didn’t know if he believed that, not if he wanted to acknowledge the truth. But he felt better when Namjoon promised, and at the moment, he just wanted to purge the shock and anger and fear from him.

Resignedly, Seokjin said, “I’m tried.”

They got back under the blankets, and then the lights were turned off. Seokjin let himself fall against Namjoon like he did almost every night, and the tension worked its way slowly out of him.

“I don’t like it, you know,” Namjoon said in the darkness of their bedroom.

“Hum?”

“Putting people in danger,” Namjoon clarified. “Even when I have to, or it’s for a greater good. I hate it, actually.”

They’d been sharing the same bed for months and months now. They’d been living together for almost half a year. So Seokjin didn’t need a light in the room to instinctively know how far to lean up in bed to find Namjoon’s lips.

“I’m sorry for being so mean to you,” he apologized, pressing a series of soft kisses to Namjoon’s mouth. “I’m sorry for being so … so …”

“So much of a big brother?”

“Hard headed,” Seokjin decided. “I know you’re a good person. I know you do your best. I trust you. I trust you with Jungkook. I’m just scared.”

Namjoon’s warm fingers stroked down Seokjin’s cheek as they shared lazy kisses.

“I love you, Jin,” Namjoon said tenderly.

“I love you, too,” Seokjin returned, and gave Namjoon a final kiss. He settled his head on the pillow after that and listened to the sound of Namjoon falling asleep.

He would have given anything, anything to make sure that Jungkook was never in the same kind of situation again. That he was never hurt again. But Seokjin supposed that if that sort of thing was impossible, and it really was, at least he had Namjoon’s promise to do his best to protect Jungkook.

Namjoon didn’t make promises carelessly, and so for Seokjin, it was enough for the moment.

Because if Seokjin lost Jungkook, he’d lose himself in turn as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really quickly, I just want to say that I will be seeing BTS in Oakland on Wednesday. So if I don't just suddenly combust from the excitement, and any of you are going to be there, I'd love to say hi in person, chat, hang out, whatever. Shocker, I have to go to work in the earlier part of the day, but my goal is to be there by the early afternoon. If any of you are attending this date, and want to say hi, I look forward to it!


	6. Chapter Six

At half past eight on a Friday night, Seokjin wasn’t really surprised that traffic was so bad that he’d had to park three blocks away from the Noodle House.

Frankly, Seokjin preferred to park at a distance, instead down one of the side alleys, or if he was especially lucky, right in front of the restaurant. Because coming at the building from a distance at night, with all the lights shining brightly, meant he got to see the place in all its glory.

Before the fire Seokjin had been starting to treat the place like a second home. He’d come around as often as possible, if only to relax a little, even if he wasn’t hungry. Because Bangtan’s core members were pretty notorious for hanging out there during their free time. And even when no one was there, Seokjin rather liked Namjoon’s grandmother.

He’d liked both of Namjoon’s grandparents, though. He’d certainly spent more time around Namjoon’s grandmother, but he’d liked the way Namjoon’s grandfather constantly hounded him to come play checkers with a small cluster of older men, or ribbed him about making an honest man out of Namjoon.

Namjoon’s grandmother had just been something else entirely. She’d been a no-nonsense kind of woman, one who accepted no bullshit, and gave as good as she got. Maybe she’d needed to be that way, after losing her daughter and son-in-law, and having a small child foisted upon her unexpectedly. She’d been hard as nails, and wise beyond her age. Worldly.

Mostly Seokjin had liked the kind crinkle to her eyes when she’d thought no one was looking, or the way she doted on Namjoon like he was the only person in the world to her. She’d been an amazing cook, a friend willing to listen to him whenever, and as soon as she’d been convinced that Seokjin was a good fit for Namjoon, she’d welcomed him into her fold like family.

“That boy,” she’d say to him, putting a huge bowl of noodles down in front of him that he probably didn’t have a chance of finishing, “he’s got rocks for brains sometimes.”

It was a game they’d play, so Seokjin would always follow up, “You’re confusing his brain with his heart. He’s smart, Grandmother Kim, and you know that. He’s smarter than most people. It’s his heart that gets him into trouble, because it’s so big, it’s filled with so much courage, and that makes him reckless at times.”

He’d feel her wrinkled fingers smooth down the hair at the back of his head, and then he’d hear her whisper something like, “You keep him from being foolish, you hear? Don’t let that heart of his break.”

When she’d died, along with Namjoon’s grandfather, a piece of the Noodle House—an integral one, had died with her.

Seokjin had almost been too surprised when it had been revealed that Namjoon planned to rebuild the place. Seokjin wouldn’t have blamed him one bit if Namjoon had wanted to let the place settle into the past and remain there.

“She’d kick me in the ass if she was still alive,” Namjoon had defended, “if she was … if she …”

Seokjin hadn’t pushed while Namjoon had struggled to keep himself together.

And then Namjoon had said firmly, “She and Grandpa opened this place when they were just in their twenties. They put everything they had into the Noodle House, and it meant everything to them. It was their legacy. And I’m not going to see their legacy blow away in the wind.”

So Namjoon had taken the ashes of the building, and he’d rebuilt. He’d gotten the support beams up first, and then the walls had followed. Floors had been installed. Equipment had been brought in, and as the months had passed, the Noodle House had slowly been put back together.

Now it was a shining beacon of light in the neighborhood.

The cook that Grandmother Kim had trusted the most in her kitchen, had come back the moment Namjoon had approached him to reopen the restaurant, and new staff had been hired along with some of the old. Now it was a booming and bustling center of activity again, and Seokjin liked walking up from a distance so he could see it in its glory.

It was still sweltering how outside in May, even though the sun had gone down a long time ago, so he only had a thin shirt on when he pressed down the side alley that ran along the building, and then through the door just ahead that was attached to the kitchen. Seokjin was never so thankful for his clothing, as a puff of hot air met him in the kitchen.

“Coming through,” Seokjin said good naturedly, ducking past a staff member that was balancing a tray full of food on her way to the dining room.

“Hungry?” the cook called out to him. He was at a large pot, stirring something lazily that smelled amazing. “Doctor Kim?”

“It’s just Seokjin,” he called back, “What are you making?”

The cook shouted boastfully, “Special tonight is budae jjigae!”

Seokjin wasn’t particularly hungry, but the dish was a favorite of his, and it showed on his face by the way the cook laughed and promised to have a serving brought out to him.

“Thank you!” Seokjin replied, and pushed on through the narrow hallway that led to the dining room. On a Friday night he’d known the dining room was going to be overly packed, which was why he’d gone in through the kitchen. The front of the house staff knew exactly who he was, so it wasn’t as if they would have stopped him or bothered him in the slightest, but Seokjin didn’t want to interrupt the flow of patrons. It was easier to just access the place through the staff entrances.

His party in waiting was tucked in to the far corner of the place like always. In a lot of ways, it was their designated table—Bangtan’s designated table. Their name wasn’t on it, and during the day it was used by anyone who might need it. But at specific times, Seokjin could count on it to be open to him, and Bangtan.

Yoongi was already there, as expected. The bigger shock would have been if Yoongi was late to anything in his life … ever. And just as predictable was Taehyung sitting across from him, demolishing a bowl of something that looked like the day’s special.

“Hey!” Taehyung shouted when he spotted Seokjin. He didn’t pause in his effort to suck up a huge mouthful of food, but that was Taehyung. Seokjin knew better than to try and get between him and food. Hoseok had sworn once that he’d nearly lost a finger the only time he’d attempted.

“You’re sooner than expected,” Yoongi greeted when Seokjin seated himself next to the shorter male. “Jungkook won’t be here for a while yet.”

“I can wait,” Seokjin said easily. He liked all the core members of Bangtan. They were his friends. It was no hardship to sit with them while he waited for his brother to show.

It wasn’t even a meeting of any caliber. It was just a moment in the week when the four of them had had schedules that lined up. Hoseok and Namjoon were tied up in something business related, and Jimin hardly ever wanted to go out with the others to begin with. But the rest of them? They’d agreed to meet for an easy dinner and good company.

“You gonna try this?” Taehyung demanded between bites of his food.

Yoongi pierced him with a firm look and said, “You’re going to make yourself sick.”

“Unlikely,” Seokjin assured. “He’s more certain to create a blockage in his air passageway, than to vomit. Though he’d probably vomit after I performed the Heimlich on him to save his life, if that makes you feel better.”

Taehyung scowled at them and put his bowl down. “I don’t have to take this, you know. I can go.”

Yoongi snorted, “And miss seconds?”

Taehyung laughed in acknowledgement, and Seokjin verified, “I’ve got a bowl coming. I take it it’s really good?”

“The best,” Taehyung said almost dreamily. “It’s Granny’s recipe, you know.”

Seokjin felt sweat beading at his forehead as he asked, “Hers?” It wasn’t overly hot in the restaurant’s dining room, but there wasn’t any air conditioning. The high windows were opened completely, but it was warm.

“She had a million recipes,” Yoongi said, with fondness. “She had special ingredients for all of them, too. She could make anything taste better, and she never said how. I think Rap Mon knows, maybe, but he isn’t talking. I think it’s fitting that way, you know? Her food lives on for her.”

Seokjin let himself heave in a deep breath. “I’m really proud of Namjoon, you know, for opening this place back up. It took a lot of bravery for him let this happen.”

Taehyung shrugged. “I don’t think it’s surprising at all. He’s like that. Even when he gets knocked down, he gets right back up.”

Seokjin thought there was a big difference between getting knocked down, and watching the restaurant Namjoon’s parents owned burn down, with his only family in the building.

But that only served to make Seokjin prouder of Namjoon for rising from the ashes like a phoenix. There was something inspiring and so beautiful about the Noodle House reopening. It stood for something now, and Seokjin felt privileged to be associated in any way.

They made idle chatter for a little bit, not long, and then Seokjin’s food arrived. He stirred his chopsticks into the bowl in front of him and soaked up the aroma. The heat from the food was rising into his lungs, making his chest feel a little tight. But it smelled so good and he couldn’t wait to dig in.

“Okay, okay, before Jungkook gets here,” Taehyung said, “we need to talk about something really important.”

“Before Jungkook gets here?” Seokjin asked with some confusion.

“Yeah,” Taehyung bit out, “because I love that kid, but he’s an utter blabber mouth and I don’t trust him with my secrets any further than I can throw his fat ass.”

Yoongi laughed a little, and assured Seokjin, “Your brother is actually packing on the muscle lately. That’s what V means.”

Taehyung whispered, “If it means you’ll still give me candy when I come by the clinic, that’s totally what I meant.”

Seokjin smiled too. “Jungkook is starting to bulk up. I thought for a long time he was just going to be my skinny little brother, but he weighs more than I do.”

“He’s practically taller than you, too,” Yoongi pointed out. “It’s a little hard to tell, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the same height now, and Jungkook isn’t done growing yet.”

Taehyung teased, “Too bad you’re not growing anymore, Suga.”

Yoongi, with lightning fast reflexes, leaned across the table to snatch Taehyung by the front of his shirt and drag him close. There was nothing in the action that was an overt warning to Seokjin who’d long since learned to interpret the interactions between members in Bangtan. So instead he sat back, took a bite of his food, and listened to Yoongi level out, “I want you to know how close I am to taking that bowl of food you have in front of you, and dumping it over your head right now. Now, do you want to say anything else about my height? Do you want me to have to tell J-Hope that he can cancel your anniversary plans because you’re dead?”

Taehyung banged a hand down on the table and insisted, “That’s what we gotta talk about before Jungkook gets here.”

“Your anniversary?” Seokjin asked, taking a bite of his food. It was a touch spicier than he was expecting, that must have been the special ingredient, and it made his heart beat a little faster. But it tasted amazing.

Yoongi let go of Taehyung as he said, “The way I hear it, the whole deal is planned out.”

“No,” Taehyung denied, “the way you hear it, Hobi booked us something amazing that we’re traveling south for, and all I have to do is turn up at a specific time and be ready to go.”

“What’s the problem?” Seokjin wondered. He didn’t give away that he’d helped Hoseok out, and that he’d called his uncle days ago and already confirmed that the plans were set. It was beyond obvious that Hoseok was keeping their anniversary trip a secret, and Seokjin didn’t want to be the one to spoil that.

“What?” Taehyung gasped out. “What’s the problem?

Yoongi ate his own food languidly and pointed out, “Isn’t that the nature of your relationship? J-Hope usually handles the burden of planning if the two of you are going to do anything, and you just go along with it.”

Scowling, Taehyung insisted, “This is different, okay? This needs to be different. This is our anniversary. Not our first. Not our second, either. This is the point in our relationship when we’re serious. So I know Hobi has something amazing planned, and I can’t just sit on my ass and not contribute.”

Three years was pretty serious, Seokjin agreed. He and Namjoon were going to be a year into their relationship soon, and they were very serious. So Taehyung and Hoseok were that much more, at three years.

“So what do you want us to do?” Yoongi asked. “We don’t know where he’s taking you. We can’t tip you off.”

Seokjin kept an even look on his face and said, “I don’t think it really matters if you know where he’s taking you. How about you focus on the amazing time you’re going to have, the things you’re going to do together, and the present you’re going to get him.”

Taehyung went white.

Blandly, Yoongi assumed, “You haven’t even started thinking about a present, have you?”

Taehyung's lower lip trembled.

Yoongi said severely, “What kind of boyfriend are you? Three years into a relationship and you’re cutting it this close to the deadline? You leave in just a couple of weeks!”

“Don’t be mean to me!” Taehyung argued back. “Don’t waste your breath. Just help me!”

“How can I help someone as unthoughtful as you?”

Seokjin grinned widely into his hand. There was such obvious affection between the two of them that there was a real lack of bite to their words. It was only a case of two brothers arguing with each other, and honestly Seokjin liked Bangtan the best when they were like this.

When they were like this, they felt like normal, everyday people.

Seokjin was so caught up in the moment that it took him a touch longer than it should have, for him to realize the room was tilting around him.

He gripped the low table sharply as the world banked back and forth.

Nausea swept over him, and then came the light-headed sensation that nearly sent him tumbling backwards in an uncoordinated mess.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

Seokjin felt like a fool. The sweating. The tightness in his chest. The rapid heartbeat.

He’d been experiencing symptoms for almost twenty minutes, and he’d been ignoring them. Like an idiot.

With fear lacing through him, Seokjin managed to heave himself to his feet.

“Jin?” Taehyung asked, looking to him.

“You okay?” Yoongi asked, watching him carefully.

“I’m fine,” Seokjin managed to grit out with a smile, hoping he was at least a little convincing. “I just … I need to make a phone call really quick. It’s important. It can’t wait. I’ll be back in a second.”

Seokjin was already moving as Taehyung asked behind him, “You want one of us to come with you?”

Seokjin asked over his shoulder, “If it’s not safe in Bangtan’s home turf, where is it?”

He knew that would settle them right away, because it wasn’t something they could argue with. There was no safer place for Seokjin than the Noodle House, which was at the heart of Bangtan’s territory, and the most protected.

He nearly collided with the wall when he reached the hallway walkway, but he managed to right himself at the last second, breathing hard.

There was panic rising in him as he tried to track the rapidness of his heart.

And the suddenness of it all made him mad.  He ambled his way towards the back exit and he was mad.

He’d gone months and months, maybe longer than he’d ever gone before, without having any issues with his heart. And he’d been doing everything right, too. He’d all but cut his coffee, tea, and alcohol in-take. He’d started eating even more healthy, and he was working less now than he had in the past five years.  He felt the strongest and healthiest at this point in his life than he ever had, and it wasn’t fair now.

Now.

Now, when he had his practice taking off, and Namjoon, and peace with his father.

“Doctor Kim?” the cook asked when Seokjin almost fell into the kitchen. He caught himself on the top of a counter and waved the man off, fumbling in his pocket for the tiny box that contained emergency medication.

It was kind of a miracle that he had it on him. His heart had been going so well for so long that he didn’t bring it with him most days. He was certain he’d even run out of the stash he kept at the clinic, at this point. And that was stupid. And deadly. He should have known better. He did know better.

It was cooler outside than inside, when he made it to the alleyway, though not by much.  But it felt like plunging into an ice-cold lake as he sucked in air that felt too thin.

Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic.

He coached himself through the action of popping open the pillbox and swallowing down the medication that would help him immediately.

It just wasn’t a permeant fix. This hiccup with his heart, even if it wasn’t as if he’d fallen over at the table in a fit of cardiac arrest, meant something. So he was going to have to go to the big hospital across town and get checked out. He’d have to sit across from Minah and look at her face while she studied his charts and saw how worse the damage was getting every time he had scans done.

He’d swallowed the pill down dry and talked himself out of a panic attack by the time he sunk down against the wall outside. He could hear the jovial shouting coming from the kitchen inside, and even more faint was the pleasant conversation of patrons in the dining room area. He let himself focus on those sounds, and not his own ragged breathing.

He tried not to obsess over counting his own pulse beats, either. He knew he just needed to relax, and let the medication do its job, and not get worked up.

Tightly, from behind him, Yoongi’s voice asked, “How’s your heart?”

If the first thing he didn’t need in his life at the moment was his heart acting up on him, the very next was anyone finding out. But especially someone like Yoongi.

Because Yoongi wasn’t like Taehyung, or Jungkook, or Jimin. They were the kind of people who’d let their feelings for him get in the way of saying anything to Namjoon, especially if he turned on some pleading. Hoseok was harder to call, but Yoongi? Yoongi’s loyalty to Namjoon went far beyond his friendship to Seokjin.

Yoongi, if he knew the truth, would be on the phone with Namjoon in less than an hour, blabbing everything. Seokjin wanted to be angry over that, but he understood the way Yoongi operated and thought. It would be a no-brainer for Yoongi.

“It’s fine. Why?”

Seokjin forced himself to straighten up. There was still a feeling lead in his belly, but he was better than he’d been just minutes pervious, and he was starting to think he could sell being okay to Yoongi if he put in enough effort.

Yoongi watched him with calculating eyes. “Because you’re pale?”

“I’m always pale,” Seokjin pointed out. He hadn’t had a tan in forever, and that wasn’t likely to change anytime soon. He’d never have an admirable skin color like Hoseok or Taehyung who obviously got enough sun each day.

Nope. Seokjin could see it on Yoongi’s face right away. He was suspicious.

So Seokjin leveled out, “My heart is never okay. You know that. So if you’re thinking you can sweep in here and save me from a birth defect, you’re sorely mistaken. But my scans looked acceptable the last time I had them done.” Maybe acceptable was … not entirely truthful, but they hadn’t looked as bad as Seokjin knew was possible, so that was good enough for the moment.

Yoongi’s eyes strayed to his chest for just a second. “I thought you said you were going out to make a phone call.”

Seokjin tapped his pocket where his phone was tucked into. “No answer. I’ll try again soon.”

Yoongi said with gentleness that didn’t always show itself so easily, “Jin. If you’re not well…”

“I’m fine,” Seokjin grit out. He took a steadying breath. “Yoongi, honestly, I’m okay. Stop standing over there looking at me like I’m going to have a heart attack. My heart isn’t as fragile as you seem to think it is, but I’m taking good care of it all the same. There is no medical emergency here. I came out to make a phone call. Could you not interrogate me over it?”

Yoongi relaxed a little and offered, “You’re angry at me for being concerned about your heart?”

“I’m not angry,” Seokjin denied. “And you’re not really worried about my heart. You’re worried about a complication to my health could do to Namjoon’s state of mind."

Yoongi bristled, clearly annoyed, and then offended. “You are my friend,” he said firmly, almost defiantly. “I can care about your health when you don’t look fine to me, without it having anything to do with my boss. Contrary to what you think, I don’t spend all waking hours of the day thinking about your boyfriend.”

“I know.” Seokjin deflated a little. “I’m sorry. I know.”

Yoongi had always been a little distant, and more mature than the rest of Bangtan put together. Yoongi was far from approachable, and was hard to spend large amount of time around sometimes. But he was a friend. He’d risked everything for Seokjin. And he was someone Seokjin trusted.

“First and foremost,” Yoongi said, “I care that you look pale. And don’t give me anything about always looking pale. You’ve got a different look on your face when you’re not feeling well.”

Seokjin felt soothed by Yoongi’s open affection. It was nice to hear that Yoongi knew him well enough to pick out when he was feeling his worst. Or at least in any other situation it would have been nice.

“But secondly,” Yoongi admitted, “even you have to agree that your life now is tied to Rap Mon’s in every way possible.

Seokjin nodded. That had been something to wrap his head around, but he was fully aware of how much he affected Namjoon.

Yoongi continued, “Right now things are … tense. S.Coups coming into town, Triad business going on in the East, Suho putting pressure on Rap Mon to expand … tense is the only word to use these days. Rap Mon needs to be focused on what’s happening, and if you had a medical issue present itself, that would unbalance him.”

Seokjin wanted to remind Yoongi, hopefully without revealing anything, that it wasn’t as if he could control when his heart decided to act up. But then all of Yoongi’s words hit Seokjin, and he asked with concern, “What’s that about Suho?

Yoongi didn’t speak right away. Instead he held still as he searched the alleyway they were standing in carefully.  And when he seemed certain they were alone and had some privacy, he relayed, “Rap Mon hasn’t asked me not to say anything to you on this topic. Typically, if he doesn’t want you to know something, he’ll say so explicitly. Otherwise, you know the deal is that if you ask, I’ll answer.”

“And Suho is …”

“Getting a little big for his britches,” Yoongi finished, looking irritable.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Yoongi said, “we teamed up with Exo out of necessity. It wasn’t just to save you, Jin. It was because Exo wasn’t going to be able to take Infinite on their own, and neither were we. So we teamed up. The point was to take down a bigger entity, and for each gang to carve out new territory. Suho seems to think that this partnership is a gateway.”

“To what?” Seokjin wondered. “More power?”

Yoongi only gave a silent nod.

“That’s …” Seokjin shook his head. “That’s ridiculous. The reason Big Bang retiring and giving up their territory was a bid deal, is because every bit of land is spoken for in this area. That was a legitimate opportunity to expand. But Suho … are you telling me Suho wants to keep going? Even into areas that are controlled by other gangs?”

Yoongi told him, “Rap Mon is doing his best to try and quell the sudden thirst Suho seems to have developed. Because we’re not interested in expanding. We don’t want to start another turf war.”

“But Suho is,” Seokjin inferred.

“Suho doesn’t see a reason not to keep riding the train.” Yoongi crossed his arms over his chest. “Suho sees Exo and Bangtan as an alliance that could be eating up streets by the day.”

Seokjin asked, “So has Namjoon just been telling him to calm down?”

“No.” Yoongi said, “You need to remember, it’s a tricky kind of business when you’re dealing with gangs. Exo and Bangtan are allied today, but they might not be tomorrow. Rap Mon can’t just put his foot down and alienate Suho. He doesn’t want to make an enemy of him, especially since Suho knows a lot about how we operate.”

Seokjin reminded, “We know a lot about Exo, too.”

“Not the same,” Yoongi denied. He took a couple of steps back towards the door to the kitchen. “You think that because Suho smiles at you, and is nice to you, and helped us save you, that he won’t turn on you for his own benefit. But he will. Never forget that. We fall out with Exo, you’ll be one of the first targets they have in mind. You might be the absolute first. And Suho won’t hold back because he seems like a nice guy to you.”

“I know that,” Seokjin said harshly. “I know exactly who I can trust, Yoongi. I can count those people on my fingers.”

“Good,” Yoongi said, reaching for the handle on the door to pull it open. “One of us? You can always count on us. But never anyone else. No matter how they smile at you, or act friendly, or do nice things for you. Never trust anyone but us.”

“You sound paranoid.” But Seokjin supposed he ought to be glad that Yoongi had stopped trying to sniff a medical issue out with him.

Yoongi agreed, “This job does that to you.” He pulled the door open. “Come back inside, okay? Unless you want to try and make that call again.”

The last bit sounded like bait, and Seokjin wasn’t going to take it.

Instead he moved after Yoongi and called out, “Hey, how’s your sister doing?” He hadn’t spoken to Yoongi about the young girl in some time. She wasn’t his patient, and she hadn’t had any further medical issues since she’d been diagnosed with anemia, so he didn’t really have a reason to check up on her. But she was a sweet girl, and Seokjin cared about her.

“She never shuts up about you,” Yoongi told Seokjin without any edge to his words. “You may have to marry her just to put her out of her misery. I’ll break the news to Rap Mon.”

This time when Seokjin laughed, he felt warmth down in his core. The pill he’d swallowed down was clearly working, and he was feeling so much better already. He’d probably have to take it easy for the rest of the night and turn in early, but if things were going to get worse, they would have already.

“Don’t you be mean to my future bride,” Seokjin told him firmly.

“Don’t joke,” Yoongi said back, the two of them moving through the kitchen easily. It seemed like it was even busier than when Seokjin had come through the first time. “She’d say yes to you in a second, if she thought there was even the slightest possibility of it happening.”

Seokjin pushed playfully at Yoongi’s shoulder. “Is this the first time your sister has wanted to marry someone?” Seokjin had Jungkook, whom he was fiercely protective over. But he imagined he’d be even worse of a tyrant if he had a little sister. He hardly thought gender mattered on almost all things in life, but a little sister … there was some paranoia that was excusive to that category.

“No,” Yoongi agreed. “Before you there was Choi Youngjae.”

“Who’s that?” They broke in to the dining area and Seokjin was surprised to see Jungkook was now at their table. He was sooner than expected. “Some hot kpop superstar?”

“Ha!” Yoongi gave Seokjin a look of disbelief. “Choi Youngjae is Moon Jaein’s bodyguard.”

Seokjin missed a step. “Excuse me? Moon Jaein? As in the president?”

Yoongi nodded. “That’s him. And apparently he has an extremely attractive bodyguard that at least half the women in this country over twelve are in love with. Probably a lot of the boys, too.”

“Huh.” Seokjin planned to look this Choi Youngjae up later. If only to see the competition.

“It’s all you now, though,” Yoongi said as they arrived back at the table. Seokjin took an easy seat next to Yoongi, across from Taehyung and Jungkook.

“What’s you?” Jungkook had a glass of something that looked suspiciously like soju in front of him, but Seokjin was trying to be less of a parent to Jungkook. He could have lectured him about not being old enough to legally drink yet, but it kind of seemed pointless. Everyone knew that Jungkook was his little brother, in the same way that they knew that Seokjin and Namjoon were a couple. No one was going to say no to Jungkook. Not unless Seokjin was there, breathing down their necks.

Seokjin wanted to save an embarrassment like that for a special occasion.

Casually, Yoongi told the group, “Hyomin is making plans to marry Jin.”

Taehyung commented, “Oh. Well, at least you’d be cute together.”

In a scandalized way, Seokjin reminded, “She’s a child.”

“He’s just kidding,” Jungkook said confidently, elbowing Taehyung in the side. “Plus, Bangtan kind of shares siblings. So that’d be incest, and that’s really nasty.”

Seokjin found himself baffled by that statement. “What?”

“It’s not mandatory or anything,” Yoongi volunteered to tell him. “But siblings are typically treated like everyone’s collective family. It’s more of a safety thing, than anything else. So Hyomin is afforded the kind of protection to all the members as if she was the little sister to each and every one of them. The same thing applies to J-Hope’s sisters, and all the other siblings of Bangtan members.”

Humorously, Seokjin asked, “Does Hyomin know this?”

“She does,” Yoongi said easily. “She’s heartbroken, of course. Maybe do your best to dissuade her when we come to that clinic event of yours? You’re very good at lecturing Jungkook. Maybe you could prepare one of Hyomin about the benefits of choosing books over boys?”

Seokjin insisted, “She’s a smart girl, you know. I don’t think she needs me to tell her to study hard and focus on getting into a good college, not having a cute boyfriend.”

“Good,” Yoongi said with a slight pitch of fervor.

Seokjin thought matter was almost completely settled until a thought dawned on him, and he asked the group, “Wait, so if siblings in Bangtan are considered almost …communal property, and Jungkook is my brother …”

Taehyung blinked wide, falsely innocent eyes up at Seokjin and said, “You’re the best big brother a guy could ever want, Jin.”

Seemingly looking more relaxed, Yoongi interjected with a grin, “Makes it kinda awkward that you and Rap Mon are probably going to end up married, then, right? Because technically, according to his own rules, you’re pretty much his brother due to Jungkook’s position—especially due to how high up Jungkook is.”

Taehyung giggled madly as Jungkook told Seokjin solemnly, “It’s super okay, I promise. I mean, well, it is a little awkward, like Suga said, but it’s mostly super okay. Everyone gets the circumstances. No one is looking at you like some incest loving creeper. Mostly!” Jungkook had only been holding back his own fit of amusement up until that point, and then collapsed into Taehyung just after he got the last of the words out.

Laughing a little himself, Seokjin couldn’t help thinking that if he’d just inherited several brothers, he could do a lot worse.

A new round of food had arrived since Seokjin had excused himself, and there was almost three times the amount now. Jungkook was practically demolishing it as Yoongi, seemingly in panic that refused to pass, told them all that he wasn’t above locking his sister in her room until she had a college acceptance letter in her hands.

“It’s not the end of the world if she doesn’t go,” Taehyung pointed out, and there was an edge to his voice. It served to remind Seokjin that not everyone had the means or opportunity to go to college. He and Jungkook were privileged in a lot of ways, and even though Yoongi had noted on a previous occasion that he wasn’t interested in college, he could have gone if he wanted to.

Seokjin knew it was a different situation for Taehyung. Taehyung had grown up extremely poor, with his family struggling just to feed him, let alone entertaining ideas of higher education.

“It’s definitely not,” Seokjin interjected, catching Taehyung’s gaze in a supportive way. “There’s a lot of pressure on kids to not only go to college, but go to a great college. Still, college doesn’t define what makes a person successful. And there are plenty of ways to become contributing, valued members of society, without going to college.”

“That’s nice and all,” Yoongi said, pulling a bowl of noodles closer to himself. “But my sister is going to college. Let her dump her degree in the garbage afterwards if she wants to. But she’s getting it.”

Piling meat onto his smaller bowl of rice, Jungkook confessed, “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

Seokjin couldn’t help laughing out, “You’re taking three classes right now. Of course it’s not as bad as you thought it would be.”

Jungkook leveled a pout at him, and it was like kryptonite.

“Look,” Seokjin sighed out. “I’m really happy that you’re attending college. Even if it’s at your own pace, and you don’t plan to be there for long, I think you stand to learn a lot of important things and do some growing up. But don’t confuse your three classes for a full schedule.”

Seokjin practically still had nightmares about his time as an undergraduate. And that had been nothing compared to his post grad and residency work. Not to mention he’d had the financial support to concentrate on his school work full time. He wasn’t sure how other people managed to go to school full time, and work full time.

“Okay, okay,” Taehyung interjected. “Enough talk about college. It’s boring and we have more important things to focus on.”

Seokjin turned to Yoongi and said, “You two are definitely going to be there for the clinic’s weekend event, right?”

“We said we’d go,” Yoongi replied. “Didn’t Rap Mon pass that along for sure? He wants all of us who can be there—and want to be I guess, to show up.”

“Community visibility,” Jungkook snuck in, mouth full of meat and noodles. “He says maybe some people who might be scared of us, or not know us, will feel better if we’re around.”

“It is a good idea,” Seokjin pointed out. “Bangtan isn’t perfect, but people should know that if there’s a real problem in this neighborhood, and the police aren’t handling it, Bangtan is going to be there.”

“In a perfect world,” Yoongi cut in, “the police would be enough.”

Seokjin did think, however, that the local police department was now headed in the right direction. Previously, almost all of the cops that had been in the area, had been on Infinite’s payroll. Most of them had been dirty, and none of them had been worth trusting. But with the downfall of Infinite, so too had gone a lot of the dirty cops. The police were far from where they needed to be, and Seokjin still didn’t put a lot of stock into them, but there was improvement.

Seokjin said to Yoongi, “Bring Hyomin by to say hi when you guys get there. I’ll make sure she’s properly focused on her studies, and I’ll give her a nudge in right direction if she isn’t. But Yoongi, she really is a really good kid. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“Seriously!” Taehyung leveled himself up to his knees and putting both palms down on the table. “Are you guys going to help me, or should I just hide under the table?”

Jungkook pointed out, “I don’t think you can fit under the table.”

Taehyung made a strangled sound.

Seokjin pointed out, “I thought you only wanted help before Jungkook got here.”

“Hey!” Jungkook shouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He said you’re a blabber mouth,” Yoongi provoked.

“Arghhh!” Jungkook lunged to the side and toppled into Taehyung, taking them both down. They crashed to the floor as their limbs tangled together.

“Children, we’re in public,” Yoongi said without inflection in his voice.

Seokjin took the opportunity to reach out and take both his portion of the meat, and Jungkook’s. He set the pieces in his rice bowl and told Yoongi, “Welcome to my world. I’ve been dealing with this child for practically my entire life. It’s why I try and take him out in public as little as possible.”

“Embarrassing,” Yoongi commented, stealing Taehyung’s meat.

Seokjin let them wrestle each other for a few moments more. They weren’t really fighting, and they also weren’t drawing too much attention, so it was mostly harmless. But eventually Seokjin knew the food was going to go cold, and at some point, the cook would start sending more out. Seokjin hardly thought the human garbage disposals named Taehyung and Jungkook needed even more food.

Especially since neither one of them was probably going to pay, and Seokjin wasn’t going to let the meal go to them for free. He paid each and every time he came to the Noodle House, even if Namjoon had made it clear he didn’t need to.

“Taehyung,” Seokjin called out. “Want to know a secret?”

“I’m kind of busy!” Taehyung called out, an arm around the back of Jungkook’s neck. “I’m trying to strangle your brother to death!”

Yoongi had taken to ignoring them, so Seokjin said, “I know where Hoseok is taking you for your anniversary.”

Taehyung popped up comically, letting go of Jungkook and demanding, “You know?”

Seokjin had already decided that he wasn’t going to let anything important slip. It was Hoseok’s anniversary present to reveal. But there wasn’t any harm in baiting Taehyung a little.

“I know,” Seokjin revealed. “And no, I won’t tell you where you’re going. But I will say it’s pretty amazing, so you’d better stop fighting with my brother, sit your butt down proper, and help us help you figure out what to get Hoseok that’s going to be even a fraction as good as what he’s planning for you.”

It was pretty impressive the way Taehyung’s demeaner changed. He all but abandoned his need to fight with Jungkook, sat himself proper, and then folded his hands on the table quietly in front of him. “Help me,” he said with wide eyes that made him look much younger than he really was.

“Take pity on him,” Yoongi translated.

“I’m not a blabber mouth,” Jungkook denied lowly.

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “You absolutely are sometimes. But you can prove all of us wrong now by helping Taehyung come up with something really cool, and then not spilling all the information to Hoseok before their anniversary. Okay?”

“Okay,” Jungkook grumbled.

Seokjin nudged him supportively under the table, and gave Jungkook a supportive grin.

Then he turned back to Taehyung and said, “Let’s start with some easy stuff. Does Hoseok have any hobbies?”

Taehyung wasted no time delving into practically everything he knew about Hoseok’s likes and dislikes, and Seokjin tried his best to focus on the words. But his heart was heavy in his chest, breathing still felt like a chore, and nothing about how he was feeling, was right. The moment for panic had passed, and there was no immediate emergency, but his heart … it was currently serving to remind him that it was in charge.

“Jin?” Jungkook asked with a frown on his face and worry accompanying the tone of his voice.

Seokjin moved some of the meat he’d stolen from Jungkook back onto his brother’s bowl, and gestured for him to focus on Taehyung.

No matter if his heart was acting up a little, or a lot, Seokjin wasn’t going to burden Jungkook with it. His brother didn’t need that worry. Seokjin loved him too much for that sort of thing.

“Slow down,” Seokjin told Taehyung when he realized how fast the younger male was speaking. “We’re listening, so slow down a little.”

Jungkook leaned towards Taehyung and whispered at him, pointing at Seokjin, “Best listener ever.”

“I’ll always listen,” Seokjin assured, and then he made himself concentrate on Taehyung again, even as his heart gave a painful clench in his chest, and Seokjin became even more worried as to what his scans would show the next time Minah took them.

He’d promised Namjoon time, before. He’d tried to be realistic, he’d tried to warn the man that his condition could be unpredictable, but ultimately, he’d promised Namjoon time. And a family. A future. Everything.

He’d promised Jungkook even more.

But his heart was making him feel like a liar all of the sudden, or as if he’d been purposefully dishonest with the people he loved.

“Jin?” Jungkook asked again, clearly not convinced that everything was fine.

One look at the raw worry on Jungkook’s face made Seokjin wonder if maybe it wasn’t better to be a liar, if only for a short while.


	7. Chapter Seven

For Seokjin, the day was going along in a spectacularly predictable way. And after all the excitement his life had entertained lately, he welcomed the monotony. Because for him, there was nothing more satisfying than rolling out of bed in the morning, spending half an hour with the man he loved, and then going to work.

Seokjin certainly didn’t think it was an insult when Jungkook called him a boring old man.

He was more than content to putter along in his clinic, the old man that he apparently was, without getting into any shootouts, or having his life threatened. If that made him boring, so be it.

“—much longer?”

Seokjin looked away from where he’d been daydreaming a little, thinking of how Namjoon had promised to try and come home a little early, and how they had tentative plans to cook dinner at home together. It was such an appealing thought that he’d let himself get distracted in the middle of his shift.

It didn’t help that he’d been previously using examination room three. Of all the rooms he and the other doctors saw patients in, three had the best location. It caught all the late morning light, hardly ever got too cold or too warm, and had a window that was adjacent to a small park area that older people typically used to meet up in some mornings. All in all, the room made for a pretty tranquil place to be.

A good place to daydream, at least.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

By now Lizzy was popping her head through the door and repeating, “Raina wants to know if you plan to do walk-ins much longer. We over scheduled some appointments today on accident, and she’s trying to balance everything out before the afternoon rush hits.”

There went the tranquil peace Seokjin had been feeling.

“How did we over book?” Seokjin asked. They were usually much better than clerical mistakes like that.

“A perfect storm,” Lizzy relayed, opening the door wider and moving fully into the frame. “We had that software update, remember? So while our whole system was down for a couple of hours yesterday, we were taking everything down by hand. When that info got put in this morning, the system didn’t flag we’d overbooked until it was too late to do anything but deal with it, or cancel on some people.”

Seokjin shook his head right away. “We’re not telling people their appointments are canceled.” That wasn’t going to happen, especially when Seokjin knew a lot of people had to muster up a lot of courage just to make appointments.

“That’s what Raina said you’d say,” Lizzy said with a grin. “You know we can practically read your mind at this point? We’ve been working together a long time.”

Seokjin gave a grin back. “You’re right. It’s a nice feeling, you know.”

“No complaints here.” Lizzy thumbed back in the direction of the receptionist’s desk. “So Raina just wants to check in with you and see how long you want to do walk-ins. She’s suggesting that you maybe cut back on the extra time you allotted to that today, at least until we catch up on the appointments that are due to start arriving within the hour.”

Seokjin assumed that was probably the best course of action, considering it was Hongbin’s day off, and Jonghyun was out sick with something that sounded suspiciously like the flu when Seokjin had talked to him on the phone. Krystal wasn’t due in until much later, and that left Seokjin and Irene and Jessica manning the floor. If they didn’t curb back the walk-ins they usually saw, they’d never get through the scheduled appointments.

Seokjin told her, “I’ll take walk-ins for the next half hour, okay? Hopefully I can squeeze a couple people in. Then we’ll go right to appointments. Pass the message along, okay? And I’ll be up there in just a couple minutes to see someone.”

Lizzy threw him a victory sign and ducked away, calling out, “And Raina said to tell you you’re not allowed to skip your lunch today. She’s noticed you doing it! Yoona will have her head if she lets you skip again.”

Seokjin laughed as she walked away. It could be a little irritating at times, having people fret and fuss over him who were supposed to be his employees, but it was genuinely nice having a support structure of friends who truly cared about him. They fussed because he mattered to them, and they didn’t just fuss over him. Everyone at the clinic treated each other like family, and Seokjin thought that was something to be grateful for.

He made a quick stop in his office to check his phone, hoping there wasn’t a message from Namjoon canceling their dinner plans, and when there wasn’t, he made the short trip to the front of the clinic to see a patient.

“I bumped someone for you,” Raina said, handing Seokjin the patient information sheet that all of their walk-ins were required to fill out. Some of their regulars had their information in the system, and a lot of them Seokjin had memorized. But they had a high yield of patients coming through now that were fresh new faces.

“You bumped someone?” Seokjin leaned left so he could see out into the waiting room. It was fuller than he liked to see before the afternoon rush even started. And while they made it a point not to bump people ahead of each other on any kind of regular basis, and despite not being an emergency room, sometimes there were priority conditions. Once in a while Seokjin would okay a bump, even if they didn’t advertise it.

Seokjin looked down at the patient information sheet. There was very, very little information on it. Someone had listed their name, but no phone number or address, no medical history, no allergies, and the only indication of injury was an auto accident.

“Who is this?” Seokjin asked, frowning at Raina. “And why would you bump this person to the head of the line?”

Raina gave him a serious look. “Because he’s one of yours. You know. One of yours.”

“One of mine?” Seokjin certainly didn’t have anyone who was his…outside of Namjoon. But all the girls who worked reception knew that. All the nurses and doctors knew exactly who Namjoon was.

Raina rolled her eyes and exhaled out, “It’s Park Jimin and he’s obviously using a fake name on the information sheet. That’s who’s waiting for you now in exam room one. I sent Moonbin in to take his vitals and get him prepped for you—mostly because he has a mean glare and some of the girls don’t like him, but mostly because he looks like he could start trouble. Moonbin’s a sweetie, you know. But he can give trouble back, if he gets it.”

Jimin was in the clinic? Jimin had been a walk-in?

Seokjin’s stomach dropped. Had Jimin actually been in an accident, or was that just his angle to get at Seokjin during work hours without calling ahead and arranging something?

Again, a little flabbergasted, Seokjin asked, “Park Jimin?”

Raina nodded slowly. “That’s why I said he’s one of yours.”

“He’s not one of mine,” Seokjin replied quickly. He was directly associated with Bangtan, but he was not a member of the gang. He wouldn’t ever be a member.

Raina didn’t look put off by his denial. “You’re dating his boss. That kind of makes him yours indirectly. I know how gangs work, Kim Seokjin.”

Flatly, Seokjin said, “Exam room one?”

“Number one,” Raina repeated. “Oh, and I did see him when he went by. He’s gotta a pretty bad wound on his arm. It was wrapped when he went by, but from the amount of blood I saw, you might need to do some stitching. Check with Moonbin about that.”

The idea of Jimin being in his clinic was jarring, but the knowledge that he was legitimately injured, was frightening.

Seokjin needed no more incentive, and a half second later he was heading right for the exam room.

Moonbin wait waiting for him on the outside of the door in the hallway, casually filling out some paperwork.

“Doctor Kim,” he greeted when he saw Seokjin. He had the same, handsome smile on his face that resided there most of the time, but there was an edge of something else on his features.

Seokjin sighed, “I take it the patient was as uncooperative as possible?”

Moonbin lit a little. “I heard you’re familiar with him.”

“He’s been a pain in my side for some time,” Seokjin joked, but he wouldn’t trade knowing Jimin for anything. Jimin’s friendship was the kind you had to work for, but that only made it more worthwhile to have in the end. “How’s the injury?”

Tapping his pen against the chart he was holding, Moonbin said, “He claims he got cutoff in traffic about an hour ago, took a tumble off the motorcycle he was driving, and that all resulted in some pretty bad road rash—maybe the worst I’ve ever seen.”

“Of course,” Seokjin said, pursing his lips with aggravation. Even if it the accident hadn’t been Jimin’s fault, how many times had Seokjin told him that riding that motorcycle of his was too dangerous? How long had Seokjin worried that something terrible would happen to Jimin while he was riding his bike? “The wound needs to be cleaned?”

“Definitely,” Moonbin replied. “He’s got all kinds of asphalt and glass in there. I offered to get started on the wound, it has to be hurting him pretty bad, but he said no one but you was going to touch him. So he’s all yours, Doctor Kim.”

“Thanks, Moonbin.” He scanned his eyes over the clipboard Moonbin had filled out. It all lined up with what he’d said about the injury.

“Doctor Kim?”

Seokjin glanced at him. “Yes?”

Moonbin’s eyes flickered to the door that Jimin was behind, then he said lowly, “I can remain in the room if you want.”

Seokjin nearly snorted out some laugher as he said, “Oh, trust me, Park Jimin isn’t a threat.” At least he wasn’t a threat to Seokjin. If anything, Seokjin was the bigger threat to Jimin. To his heart at least.

“You sure?” Moonbin pressed. “I know he’s a gang member. And I know what your ties are to Bangtan. But that guy in there … look, I’ve seen my fair share of dangerous. I know what dangerous looks like. So even if you think that guy won’t hurt you, it’s okay to be a little extra safe.”

Touched by Moonbin’s concern, Seokjin reached a hand out to his shoulder and said firmly, “I know Jimin personally. I know what he’s capable of, too. But you need to believe me when I tell you that he would never hurt me. I’m probably safer in there with him, than anywhere else on the planet.”

Moonbin didn’t look wholly convinced, but he didn’t argue the point, either. He only pressed the chart to his chest and said, “Okay. I’ll go get this stuff on file, and then come back and see if you need anything.”

“Take your time,” Seokjin called out, and then he pulled open the door to the room and went inside.

Jimin, as expected, was sitting up on the high bed in the corner of the room, his legs dangling down in front of him. Seokjin’s gaze went directly to his left arm that he was favoring, wrapped up in a cloth stained red.

“Jimin,” Seokjin said, shoulders falling.

“Seriously?” Jimin snapped out, face pinched in a way that indicated the pain he was in. “That’s your lecture face. Don’t you dare start lecturing me.”

Seokjin rolled the stool from across the room to Jimin’s side, sat on it, and responded, “I only give lectures when they’re deserved. So if you can explain to me why you weren’t wearing your riding jacket when you wiped out, legitimately, I won’t lecture you.”

“It’s as hot as hell out there,” Jimin protested.

“That jacket isn’t for when it’s cold,” Seokjin replied. He reached out for Jimin’s arm and took it in his hands. He worked the cloth off as gently as possible, but he couldn’t help the way blood had dried and stuck the cloth to Jimin’s skin. “The jacket isn’t a fashion statement, either. It’s so, god forbid something like this happens, you’ll be protected.”

The wound alone was enough to tell Seokjin that Jimin hadn’t been wearing the necessary protective gear he should have. But he’d likely been wearing his helmet, because his brain wasn’t scrambled. The wound on his arm looked deep enough to correlate with a traumatic brain injury if there hadn’t been a helmet.

“I left it at home on accident,” Jimin finally admitted, hissing a little as Seokjin probed the wound.

“You’ve got all kinds of nasty stuff in here,” Seokjin observed. The blood had slowed to a sluggish pace, and that meant he could see the open wound clearly enough to pick out the dirt, rocks, and glass in it. Moonbin had probably gotten that far, too. “You want some pain medication before I go rooting around in you?”

“No,” Jimin said firmly.

Seokjin could have predicted that.

“Then you feel free to cry on my shoulder,” Seokjin told him. He let Jimin tuck his arm back into his lap and moved to the other side of the room. He washed his hands again, slipped on gloves, and brought over all the items he’d need to clean out Jimin’s arm.

The first round of business, and maybe the worst, was getting all the debris out of the long wound on Jimin’s arm. Seokjin was starting to think that maybe it wasn’t deep enough for stitches now, but he wouldn’t know for certain until he got it cleaned up completely.

“So why exactly were you in such a rush that you left your jacket behind.” Seokjin paused, then said, “On second thought, I’m more interested in you actually showing up at my clinic for treatment. You think you’re Superman half the time, and you’re suborn the rest of the time.”

Seokjin steadied Jimin’s arm in his grip, and set to work with a pair of tweezers to remove the bits in his wound.

Jimin said after a pause, “Isn’t this what you told V to spread around?”

“What’s that?” Seokjin didn’t lift his eyes from Jimin’s arm.

Jimin insisted, “V said you got all worked up when you heard Bangtan’s guys were going other places for treatment. So now you’re complaining that we’re coming here?”

“You’re trying to tell me you’d be happier going somewhere else and getting seen by a stranger?” Seokjin asked, wincing when he pulled a particularly large piece of glass from Jimin, causing the other male to groan in pain. “But yes, for the record, I did tell Taehyung that, and I stand by it. As long as you guys are coming in the right way, and not scaring anyone, I prefer to treat you. I trust myself with you. I don’t trust other people.”

Jimin’s fingers flexed out, and Seokjin could feel Jimin’s gaze on him.

Seokjin went back to work on the wound, and reminded, “So where were you going in such a rush that you forgot a jacket that could have saved you all of this trouble and pain?”

“Believe it or not, I was coming here.”

Seokjin gave him a look of disbelief.

“I swear it,” Jimin said, “I was coming here to see you. I wanted to catch you before the afternoon rush.”

“You …” Seokjin looked up at him. “You actually listen when I talk?” He’d said on several occasions that his afternoons were the busiest, but he hadn’t really thought that anyone outside of Jungkook or Namjoon (probably not even Jungkook) paid attention.

Jimin looked to the window, and in the direction of the convenience store across the street before he said, “I always listen when you talk.”

Seokjin’s fingers stilled the tweezers. “I …”

Seokjin could see Jimin physically take a deep breath.

“So,” Seokjin said, trying to break up the growing thickness in the room, “you were in such a rush to get over here, despite the fact that you know I’d spend my lunch talking to you if you wanted—”

Jimin broke in, “I have it on good authority you don’t always take your lunch break, or you work through it.”

Seokjin continued, “—you forgot a jacket that might save your life someday, and ended up crashing.”

There was a tensing of Jimin’s muscles then that came with anger, and Jimin said hotly, “This fucking asshole came out of nowhere and cut me off. I would have been fine, I had control of the bike, but then he slammed on his breaks, and down I went.”

Seokjin was certain he’d gotten the wound clean just a second later, and set about washing the skin then. It looked like Jimin had escaped stitches by the skin of his teeth.

Half from morbid curiosity, Seokjin asked, “Is the guy who caused you to wipe out now missing his head?”

“No,” Jimin grumbled. “But he’s about to be missing his car, his apartment—anything he has of value. Maybe his pension. I bet I could get his pension.”

Seokjin wiped Jimin’s arm down carefully but praised, “Look at you, using your brain to hit someone where it really hurts.”

“I could hit him in the balls and make it hurt more, actually,” Jimin pointed out. “I’m just trying to be the fine, upstanding citizen you seem to think I’m capable of being.”

Seokjin pushed himself away from Jimin and rolled the stool over to the garbage can. He discarded all the things he’d used with Jimin, aside from the tweezers, and rolled over to a cabinet where he had gauze and tape.

“I know what you’re capable of,” Seokjin said lightly, trying not to make Jimin feel too uncomfortable. “You’re capable of so much more than you ever give yourself credit for, and you know I hate when you discredit yourself.”

Jimin didn’t have anything to say in return as Seokjin set about bandaging the wound, and wrapping it.

“So, what were you coming to talk to me about?” Seokjin used bandage tape to secure the first piece of wrappings. “You know I have a phone, right? I get around to returning calls eventually.”

Jimin’s head tilted and he asked, “You’re still going to that conference, right? In Wonju?”

Seokjin nodded. “I have everything booked. I’m going to drive up there on Wednesday, I’ll stay overnight, and then I’ll drive back the next day. It’s just a two-day conference. Why?”

Jimin’s free hand tapped a nervous patter out on his knee. “Rap Mon’s really uncomfortable with you going, you know.”

“Yes, yes,” Seokjin dismissed. “He thinks I’m going to get snatched right off the streets. It’s a medical conference, not a walk into the lion’s den. There are some things I know Namjoon has a right to be paranoid over. This isn’t one of them.”

“I don’t know. He’s gotta let you out of his sight for a couple days. That would make me anxious.”

There were many days at a time, Seokjin wanted to tell Jimin, when they didn’t see each other for extended periods of time. But Seokjin held his words back upon further consideration. Jimin had a long history of lurking around, watching him, as if danger might appear out of thin air. Maybe Seokjin wasn’t seeing Jimin around, but that didn’t mean Jimin wasn’t there.

“It’ll be good for him to lengthen the leash,” Seokjin assured. “I’m half surprised he isn’t insisting that someone stow away in the backseat for the drive up there. I did tell him, you know, I’m meeting up with a couple of friends who are also attending the conference. I won’t be sitting in my hotel room plotting ways to get into trouble. And I’m not nervous about going.”

“Yeah,” Jimin said, lifting his arm so Seokjin could finish wrapping. “But what if you were?”

Seokjin’s hand stilled. “What?”

“I mean,” Jimin eased out in a deceptively nonchalant way, “what if you told Rap Mon that you were a little rattled, and that you’d feel better if someone went up there with you. You know, just to watch your back because you’re going to be in someone else’s territory.”

“And why would I do that?’

Jimin gnawed on his bottom lip.

“Jimin?”

Jimin wouldn’t meet Seokjin’s gaze, and that wasn’t like him at all.

Seokjin tucked Jimin’s bandaged arm into his lap and pushed back towards the garbage can for a second time. An intern would be in to clean up the room for its next use, but Seokjin never felt comfortable leaving his mess for someone else. Not when it was so easy to take care of it himself.

“You’re going into Triad territory,” Jimin said bluntly “For that conference of yours.”

Seokjin took a second to mark down all the items he’d used on an inventory sheet. “Technically,” he said, “I think it’s Pentagon’s territory, but considering they’re grouped in with two other gangs, we can call it Triad territory if you want. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m going there for work, and I don’t plan to stick my nose anywhere it doesn’t belong. So I don’t think it matters who runs the area.”

“Except...” Jimin drew out.

Seokjin knew where he was going in an instance.

“Except,” he allowed, “you think this Triad is up to something fishy. Namjoon doesn’t. And I’m just going to go out on a limb here and say that you still haven’t found a legitimate reason to go anywhere this area. Until now.”

Jimin had the decency to shoot him a guilty look.

“Really?” Seokjin leaned up on the nearby countertop in disbelief. “Really, Park Jimin?”

“You’d be doing me a favor,” Jimin rushed out, his fingers twisting together in a show of his anxiety. “Jin, even if you don’t believe me, and neither does Rap Mon, my gut is telling me I have to check this out. I have to make sure. And I can’t just let this go like I know you’re about to tell me to. I’ve tried and I can’t. So this is me, asking for a favor.”

“No. This is you, asking me to lie to my boyfriend to get your foot in the door.”

Seokjin pushed away from the countertop and rolled his way back to Jimin’s side.

“I’m not asking you to lie,” Jimin insisted.

Seokjin glared at him. “But you don’t want me to go him and say that you’d like to come with me so you can investigate this Triad. What you want me to say is that I’m nervous traveling alone, and that I’d feel better if you were with me. That’s a lie at worst, and an omission at best.”

Jimin leaned forward, hunching his back. “Wow, make me feel like shit why don’t you.”

“I’m not trying to,” Seokjin said gently, feeling the shift between them. “I just want you to recognize that it’s not fair for you to ask me to like to Namjoon like that so you can benefit. I wouldn’t lie to you if the situation were reversed.”

“If you were my boyfriend?” Jimin said sharply, with a dangerous edge.

Seokjin countered right away, evenly, “Yes. If you were my boyfriend, I wouldn’t lie to you to benefit anyone else. But take the word boyfriend out here. I don’t lie to my friends period. I wouldn’t lie to Taehyung, or Yoongi, or Hoseok, or you, or anyone else. Not unless I had a really, really good reason for it.”

“You don’t think my word is a good enough reason?” Jimin asked with uncertainty. “I’m telling you, maybe I’m completely wrong. Maybe this is just me being an ass here, but my gut … I trust my gut. And my gut says something is going on. Good or bad it doesn’t matter, something is going on with these small gangs, and it’s worth knowing about before it starts to impact us. Rap Mon is so afraid to rock the boat right now, but I’m more afraid of the wave that might be coming at us in the distance a month from now, or a year.”

Seokjin leveled out, “Namjoon’s gut says to leave this alone.”

Without warning, Jimin reached out for Seokjin’s hand with his undamaged arm. He caught Seokjin’s fingers in a tight grip and said tersely, “I don’t really care about his gut, Jin. I care that mine says I have a family to protect, and someone … someone I’d give anything to have.” Jimin took a deep, heaving breath. “And I want to do whatever it takes to make sure everyone stays safe. Especially you.”

Seokjin hated it. He hated Jimin’s feelings for him with a passion. He hated the pain it caused Jimin, and the wall it had put up between them, and the awkwardness of it all.

Voice going soft, Seokjin asked, “What if we did this? What if you came with me, and while I was at my conference, you were poking your nose around? What if we do that and you find nothing?”

Jimin let go of his hand almost like he’d suddenly realized what was happening.

“Then I’m an idiot,” Jimin said harshly. “Just like Rap Mon probably thinks.”

“He doesn’t think that,” Seokjin said dryly. “Try again, without the self-deprecating attitude.”

“Then,” Jimin repeated, “I find nothing. And I’m wrong. And I let it go.”

Seokjin had needed to hear that.

“But,” Jimin followed up with quickly, “What if I find something?”

“What if you get caught nosing around?” Seokjin threw at him. “Have you stopped to think about that? You’re fantasizing about finding something to prove you’re right to Namjoon. But have you even considered that you could get caught sniffing around for information? What kind of position do you think that would put Namjoon in? Don’t you think that’s too big a risk?”

Jimin slid down the table to stand on his own feet, and said inelegantly, “Not for you. Not for your safety.”

Seokjin rubbed at the back of his neck. Sometimes talking to Jimin was like shouting at a wall.

Instead of pressing the situation, Seokjin said, “You need to keep that wound clean. I mean it, no getting lazy with it. It’s just shallow enough that you don’t need stitches, but you had a lot of debris in there, and infection could set in because of that. I did a thorough job cleaning your wound, but at the first hint of fever, or inflamed, painful skin, I want you to come see me right away. I’m beyond serious here.”

“You’re always serious,” Jimin replied.

“About your health? Yes, because you never seem to take it serious enough.”

Jimin lingered for a minute, then asked, “Are we done? I have to go and file a claim with my insurance company. My bike’s drivable, but it needs work.”

“Give me a second,” Seokjin said, pushing the stool back into place. “I’ll walk you out.”

Like a punch to the gut, Jimin put a hand out to stop him. “I can find the door on my own.”

“Jimin,” Seokjin said, shaking his head. “Don’t.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Jimin took even, unflinching steps towards the door. “I was wrong to ask you to do something like that. I get it now. You’re … you’re not that kind of person, and that’s what’s good about you. That’s what makes you better than other people.”

Seokjin was left standing there in the middle of the room, a little stunned, as Jimin left quickly.

Maybe Jimin had been wrong to ask, but it was so easy to see his heart was in the right place. Jimin was impulsive and a little short sighted, but his heart was always in the right place. He always had good intentions.

“Done in there?” Joy asked when Seokjin emerged from the room. “That patient just blew out of here. He doesn’t need a follow up?”

“No,” Seokjin told her with a resolute tone. “And if he does, I know where to find him.” He glanced at the clock. “Raina just left?”

Joy nodded. “Her shift ended fifteen minutes ago, but she said to remind you she got authorization about swapping her shift tomorrow with Yoona.”

“I remember,” Seokjin assured. Together the both of them walked back to the front, and Seokjin placed the inventory sheet in the appropriate spot.

Joy glanced at him in a worried way. “Are you okay? You look …” Sad. He could tell the word she wanted to say was sad.

“I’m fine,” he said, making a show of shrugging off the worry that was eating at him over Jimin. “Whenever there’s a room ready, I’ll take another walk-in.”

Seokjin tried to tell himself, for the rest of his shift at least, that he could put Jimin and his request to the back of his mind and not dwell. He let himself pretend that he could focus wholly on his patient, and that he wasn’t being eaten alive by concern.

But the truth was, Jimin was too much like Jungkook to Seokjin, and he had an uncanny way of getting under Seokjin’s skin.

And by the end of his shift, as he was lingering in the lobby for Krystal to gather her personal items, his thoughts strayed too easily back to Jimin.

“Bye, Doctor Kim,” Moonbin called out.

Seokjin raised a hand as he saw Moonbin near the front door, and asked, “Do you want to wait for Krystal and me? We can go together to your car after we get Krystal to hers.” It was such a long, lingering habit in Seokjin, he didn’t ever think he’d really be rid of it. He was certain he’d want to go in pairs for the rest of his career.

“I’m good,” Moonbin insisted. He pointed out to the front of the clinic where a car was idling. “Eunwoo’s here to get me. See you tomorrow.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Krystal said, coming up behind Seokjin ask he watched Moonbin get in the car. “Ready to go?”

“Ready,” Seokjin insisted, and walked her to her car.

Namjoon was already there when Seokjin got home. It was certainly a nice change of pace, considering Namjoon had already set out the ingredients for their meal, and had a cup of caffeine free tea waiting for him.

“You are the best ever,” Seokjin praised, sneaking a kiss to Namjoon’s lips before enfolding the tea mug in his hands.

Dramatically, Namjoon declared, “You just want me for my ability to turn on the kettle.”

Seokjin told him, “Which I taught you how to do.”

“Not true.”

“True,” Seokjin fired back, and it absolutely was. Before Seokjin had come along to make sure that Namjoon was eating properly, he’d certainly seen the inside of the man’s kitchen. When Namjoon had lived alone, he’d alternated between eating at his grandparent’s restaurant, and getting takeout. Namjoon hadn’t been able to cook much of anything for himself. He hadn’t even known how to turn his own stove on.

“We’ll agree to disagree,” Namjoon said pridefully. “Now, come over here and make sure I got everything you said we needed.”

Sipping on his tea, Seokjin leaned over the countertop in the kitchen to take stock of all the ingredients Namjoon had set out. There wasn’t anything he could see that was missing. And though they were going to have a late dinner, Seokjin was really looking forward to cooking with Namjoon.

“I swear I followed your list,” Namjoon said, his fingers hooked gently to Seokjin’s hips as he pressed up along his back. “I had to go to three different places to find the right stuff, but I was a man on a mission.”

Seokjin laughed out, “You were a man being led by his stomach and the promise of good food.”

“What can I say,” Namjoon admitted easily, “I’m but a simple man.”

Seokjin had them wash their hands before anything else, and then it was on to veggie prep, which was monotonous, but in the best way possible. It was something to focus on, to let the worries of the day fade away, and it was one of the few things Seokjin trusted Namjoon not to get wrong.

“You look …” Seokjin couldn’t help noticing the creases on Namjoon’s face as he concentrated on cutting up an onion and not crying. “Tired. Was today bad?”

“Not bad,” Namjoon denied. He cubed the onions carefully. “Just …”

With some uncertainty, Seokjin reminded, “You can talk to me about your day at work, you know. You can bounce stuff off me, and vent to me.” Namjoon knew that, right? He almost never shared any information about how his day at work had gone, at least unless Seokjin asked. Seokjin had always thought it had more to do with Namjoon wanting to keep him separate from Bangtan, but maybe it was something else.

Tersely, Namjoon said, “Like I work a regular job and I can whine to you about who stole someone else’s lunch out of the refrigerator? Or who used up all the ink in the fax machine?”

“No,” Seokjin said patiently, “not like that, obviously. But you have to know anything you say to me is said in complete confidence. I won’t share anything with anyone else.”

Namjoon’s knife stilled and he said incredulously, “You think I don’t talk about work with you because I’m afraid you’ll go blab to Jonghyun on your lunch break?”

“Not really,” Seokjin admitted. “I just thought I needed to say it, Just in case…”

More softly now, Namjoon said with a face crumpling in guilt, “I don’t talk about work because it’s not…what I have to do some days, I don’t want the person I love knowing about.”

Now it was Seokjin’s turn to pause. “You act like I don’t already know what your job entails. You act like you think for one second that I’d judge you for anything you have to do.”

“You don’t know half the things I do.”

Seokjin sighed, “And you don’t seem to get that I have born witness to what you’re capable of. Namjoon …” Seokjin set the knife completely aside and put his hands on Namjoon’s strong shoulders. He squeezed there for a moment, then reminded, “I’ve seen you beat someone to death to save my life. I wasn’t scared of you then. I’m not scared of you now. And I will never be scared of you in the future.”

He could feel the tremble of Namjoon’s shoulders, so his touch quickly became a hug, and he cradled Namjoon in his arms.

“You can tell me the things you try and keep bottled up inside,” Seokjin smoothed. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

“I know,” Namjoon said eventually. “But I don’t want to. Jin, I don’t want you to know some things. Even if you can take it, even if you say it doesn’t bother you, or you won’t judge me. some things you’ll be better off not knowing.”

Seokjin let his fingers drift up Namjoon’s back, to stroke the skin at the base of his neck, and then up into his short hair.

“Then leave some stuff out,” Seokjin suggested. “Leave out the worst of it. Leave out the stuff you have to shut away in your mind. And tell me other things. Tell me about Taehyung’s quest to get Yoongi to smile, and how you’re balancing the new territory lines, and how much of a jerk Suho is being.”

Namjoon drew back a little at that. “Oh. Suga mentioned that.”

Seokjin eased out, “He said you hadn’t given him orders not to talk about it. But I thought we were on really good terms with Exo.”

“We are,” Namjoon insisted. He caught one of Seokjin’s hands and kissed his fingers. “Suho is just …persistent. He’s ambitious, to be frank, and he knows what he wants.”

Seokjin regarded Namjoon with worry, then asked, “Is there any danger of Suho and Exo turning on us?”

“Us?” Namjoon asked with some mirth.

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “Yes, us. I may not have some ridiculous nickname, but I’m yours all the same and you know it.”

Namjoon’s arm hooked firmly around his waist then, and Seokjin felt himself being lifted in the slightest for a full, wonderful kiss from Namjoon.

“You’re mine,” Namjoon repeated, almost reverently.

“I’m yours,” Seokjin agreed, and laid a much heavier kiss on Namjoon’s mouth.

Eventually, with the water boiling behind them on the stove, and the smell of the vegetables wafting up at them, they were able to pull themselves apart.

It was then that Namjoon said, “I don’t think Suho wants to cut ties just yet. He’s a big picture kind of guy, and he’d be an idiot to throw away a resource like Bangtan. He needs us more than we need him right now, especially with those delusions of grandeur he’s got. But do I trust he’s not going to turn on us eventually?”

“You think he will,” Seokjin guessed.

“I think,” Namjoon said, “all gangs operate the same way, from the ones that try to do good, to the ones that only do bad. Alliances between gangs are few and far between for a reason, and they don’t last long for obvious reasons. The moment Suho thinks he doesn’t need us, he’ll turn. It’s in his nature.”

Seokjin started adding the vegetables to the boiling pot on the stove, and headed to the refrigerator, commenting, “You’ve always said that Suho is honorable. Even Yoongi agrees. Doesn’t that factor in?”

“It does,” Namjoon said.

Seokjin retrieved tofu from the fridge and placed it on a cutting board. “Then why do you expect someone honorable to turn on you?”

Namjoon’s jaw was locked a little in a grimace as he said, “Because Suho won’t go behind my back when he turns. He’ll do it right to my face. That’s how being an honorable gang member fits in.” Namjoon shook his head a little. “But that’s neither here nor there at the moment. Suho is pushing at me just to see if he can get me on board with his expansionist attitude. We’ve got a way to go before he’s ready to cut ties.”

Bringing the knife down to the tofu to cut it into cubes, Seokjin said, “That does not comfort me.”

“Don’t be worried,” Namjoon assured. His arms were back around Seokjin’s waist from behind once more. “Suho’s downfall is that he knows I’ll see his betrayal coming. That’ll keep him in check for a while, and it’ll let me focus on rooting out Infinite’s men who are still lingering around.”

Seokjin let himself lean back against Namjoon as he cut the tofu carefully. “Okay,” he said softly. “For now, okay.”

They made dinner in easy comfort after that, Namjoon talking some about work, Seokjin talking more about his own, and the both of them enjoying more neutral topics. Dinner took almost an hour to make, mostly because they kept getting caught up in each other, nearly ruining the dish several times due to long kisses and wandering hands. But eventually they sat down together to enjoy the meal they’d prepared.

And then afterwards Seokjin offered to the do dishes while Namjoon took a call from Yoongi out on the patio and looked upset as he did so.

“Problem?” Seokjin asked when Namjoon finally stepped back inside. The look on Namjoon’s face said everything.

Exhaling, Namjoon said, “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.”

Seokjin felt disappointment in him rise. “We were going to watch a little tv later on—maybe a movie.” And Seokjin had honestly been hoping that they’d end up tumbling into bed together for more than a little hot and heavy action. With their different work schedules and the lack of personal time for each other, they hadn’t been intimate recently. Seokjin was really looking to change that.

Clinging to some hope, Seokjin offered, “I could wait up for you. I need to get through some reading before the conference. I wouldn’t mind waiting up.”

At least Namjoon looked as frustrated as Seokjin felt. “No, don’t wait up. I have no clue how long this is going to take, but Suga thinks there’s some serious movement in one of the nearby neighborhoods, and at least two different people are saying they spotted someone who looks distinctly like Myungsoo. If there’s even a chance it’s him…”

“You have to go,” Seokjin finished

Namjoon kissed him briefly, almost like he was afraid to indulge in any more, and then said, “Just lock up the place tight, okay? The usual faces will be watching this place, so go right for them if anything feels off or there’s even a hint of danger.”

Namjoon hustled quickly to the front door and struggled to get his shoes on fast.

“Be safe,” Seokjin ordered, squashing down the fear that he always felt when he knew Namjoon was out doing something related to Bangtan—which was more often than not. “Tell Yoongi that he’ll have to answer to me if he lets anything happen to you.”

“Love you,” Namjoon told him, and then he was out the door and rushing off into danger.

Seokjin turned the deadbolt lock after him, and leaned against the door.

He let himself linger there for too long, maybe. But if he kept his eyes closed and his forehead pressed against the door, a part of him could pretend that Namjoon wasn’t gone.

Reality caught up with him quickly enough, however. And then it was back to routine, and into bed not that long after.

He’d only been lying in bed for a few minutes, trying to sink into a welcomed sleep when he heard the scrape of the lock. Seokjin opened his eyes and looked at the clock on the bedside table. Namjoon had only been gone a couple of hours. Did that mean things had gone well? Had they caught Myungsoo?

Seokjin sat up in bed. Maybe catching Myungsoo wouldn’t end the constant dread that forced Seokjin to look over his shoulder all day long, but it would certainly help.

Pressure pushed on the door. Seokjin heard it faintly, in the dead quiet of the apartment, and it was wrong.

Someone had tried to open the door only after turning the lock on the bottom of the door. Namjoon would have known better. Even if Namjoon was drunk, or sleepy, or anything in between, he would have known that it had been drilled into Seokjin like second nature to deadbolt the apartment door.

They were never going to get caught again like they had been by Sunggyu.

Whoever was at the door, was not Namjoon.

Fingers trembling, Seokjin pushed back the blankets on the bed.

Who was at the door? Who—

Coherent thought left Seokjin at the sound of their door splintering open. He could hear the wood cracking as it blasted open, and he could picture the scene in his head with frightening clarity.

Seokjin snapped into action a moment later.

A year ago, he would have cowered. A year ago, he would have been paralyzed with fear.

This year was different.

Seokjin crouched down and reached under the bed at the sound of shoes crunched over splinters of wood, thumping on the floor.

This year Seokjin was no victim.

So he stood, baseball bat in hand, and waited.


	8. Chapter Eight

Of course, if Seokjin wasn’t a victim, neither was he stupid.

In no universe did he think he was even a mild challenge for anyone coming at him with poor intentions. Seokjin had taken self-defense classes at the behest of his father, but those were lessons intended to help him escape a bad situation, or hold his own until help arrived. Certainly, those hadn’t been lessons intended to make him into the victor in a fight.

Except in this situation Seokjin didn’t know what he was about to face. And lacking that knowledge Seokjin only hop was to either try and buy time, or escape. If it was the third option, a real fight, then he was worse off than he wanted to acknowledge.

That was why he had the baseball bat in his right hand, ready to swing at a moment’s notice, and his cell phone in his left. And as he took steady, even steps towards the door, he typed out a simple word into the group chat that Jungkook had forced him into.

At the time of its creation, Seokjin had been mildly irritated. Jungkook was still very much a teenager in a lot of ways, and some of the other members of Bangtan could act that way too. So often the group chat could devolve into blocks of time consisting of lewd jokes, and antagonizing taunts, and needless interruptions as Seokjin’s phone sounded every time a text came through.

Seokjin had threated to leave the group chat, even if it meant shutting down his phone, if Jungkook didn’t find a way to fix the nonstop beeping.

Now, being in the group chat probably was going to save his life. Because instead of having to worry about texting just one person, and hoping they got the message in time, Seokjin had a plea for help going to six other people. At least one of them had to come to the ready.

After the text was sent, Seokjin tossed the phone back on his bed. It hit soundlessly, and Seokjin leveled the bat up with two hands now.

The thudding of footsteps continued, even if the sound was slower now, as if the person breaking in was trying to decide where to go.

Seokjin knew that’s what this person was trying to figure out. He and Namjoon had a peculiar shaped apartment. Most apartments were elongated in the shape of a rectangle, with one long hallway connecting all the major rooms. The apartment Seokjin shared with Namjoon was built more in a circle. When entering through the front door, one could go right towards the bedrooms, or left into the living room, but eventually it all connected via the kitchen in the back, in a loop.

Seokjin nudged the door to the bedroom open and then tapped his chest, over his heart, with that hand. If ever he needed his heart to have mercy on him, this was it. Especially since adrenaline was pumping through him, and his body was readying a fight or flight response.

He didn’t want to think about how easy to would be to suffer heart failure, with the shock of natural chemicals that were about to burst through his body in excess.

Then, eerily, and in a way that shook Seokjin down to his core, a voice called out, “Come out, come out. I know you’re here.”

Seokjin’s heart jerked, and he pressed back against the wall, more hugging the bat to his chest now than anything else, eyes clenching closed.

He couldn’t identify the voice. It was too muffled by the curve of the hallway. But he understood he tone all the same.

The sound of shoes lightened then, and Seokjin held in the doorway to the bedroom. Did that mean the man, it was clearly a man, had stopped moving all together? Or was he going off in the direction of the kitchen?

It was so silent in the apartment Seokjin felt like he could hear himself breathing, as if it was thunderous.

“If you come out,” the stranger spoke one more, “I won’t hurt you too badly.”

Seokjin’s legs threatened to give out. This wasn’t just a random burglary. This was someone deliberately looking for him. Or for Namjoon?

His socked feet sliding on the hardwood floor, Seokjin slipped out of the bedroom. The master bedroom was located the furthest from the front door, with the spare room buffering the two locations. Seokjin wanted to put even more distance between them.

The sound of a gun priming echoed through the house.

“Don’t make me come get you.”

Seokjin slunk back in the darkness, back closer to the loop of the hallway that led to the kitchen. All he had to do, he reminded himself, was buy time. It was all about buying enough time for someone to come and rescue him.

A terrible thought slammed into him.

What had happened to the men that Namjoon posted outside their apartment almost religiously? When no one was home, Seokjin had a sinking suspicion that they were put on other duties. But whenever one or both of them were home, there were always eyes on the house. Some of the men posted by Namjoon were obvious, meant to denture amateurs. But often the eyes on the apartment were not.

Seokjin had no doubt that a couple extra of Bangtan’s watchful eyes had been left on the apartment the moment Namjoon had left.

 So, what had happened to those men? What had this person done to them? Because Bangtan’s men weren’t the kind to be tricked or lured away. They wouldn’t have abandoned their posts for anything.

Fingers trailing the wall, Seokjin rounded the corner, feeling the change in temperature as he hit the kitchen. The room was always colder than the others, and Seokjin was standing so near the refrigerator he could practically feel the chill of the stainless steels doors against his skin.

“Alright then,” the man said, sounding further way. “I’ll come find you then.”

He was still by the door. Seokjin risked deciding that, and so he stepped his way carefully into the kitchen.

If he was the intruder, and he was looking for someone late at night, he’d start with the bedroom.

That meant Seokjin had a chance. He could either hide, and hope that he could wait the man out until help arrived, or he could try and get past him. Eventually, Seokjin figured the intruder would start turning on lights, and vetting out hiding spots. But if the man was in one of the bedrooms, Seokjin could swing around the kitchen, through the living room, and out the door.

Then he’d run. Or maybe he’d grab his keys out of the basket by the door if they were still there. But mostly, he’d just run. There were members of Bangtan who had their personal residences fairly close. Seokjin only trusted the core members of Bangtan implicitly, but any kind of help would do. Especially the kind that was loyal to Namjoon.

He nearly collided with the kitchen table.

Seokjin heard the stopper on the bedroom door hit the wall, probably from the spare bedroom, and he’d been so caught up in his thoughts that he’d nearly careened into the kitchen table. The thing was absurdly high, too, absolutely Western, and more of a showpiece than anything else. There was a more traditionally Korean table that they often ate at closer to the living room.

Seokjin put a hand down on top of the kitchen table. The bat felt lax in his fingers, and he felt foolish for carrying it now. What was he going to do, attack someone with it? He … the thought alone made him sick.

When he’d been fighting for his life against Hoya, and against Woohyun, he’d committed acts of violence that had shaken him on a philosophical level. He was no pacifist, but he was a doctor. And doing harm to anyone else, even in self-defense, was revolting in a way. Seokjin didn’t know if he was capable of swinging a bat at someone, especially with the possibility he might kill the person.

The door. Seokjin could see the front door to the apartment in the distance. The apartment was pitch black, but the door was busted open, some of it in pieces, and the light from the moon outside was streaming in.

He was so close.

He was going to run for it.

The length of a room. That was all that was standing between him and freedom. One length of the room. And Seokjin could walk the room in his sleep. He knew where each piece of furniture was. He knew when to swerve left, what to step over, and how many paces it took to get past the sofa which was the big obstacle in the room.

Before he’d realized what was happening, he was dashing for freedom.

And then he was on his back, pain flashing through him like pinpricks, blinking sharply at nothing buy darkness around him.

A fist crashed into his side them, and Seokjin gave a terrible shout, louder than he’d expected from himself. But in the past year he’d had ribs both bruised and broken, and while he’d recovered, there was a lingering sense of fragility in his torso. And fear.

“Did you think you were clever?” a voice growled in his ear, and then he was being dragged up to his feet by someone far, far stronger than him. His feet tangled up as he was shoved back until he slammed into the far wall. “Did you think I didn’t know where you were the entire time?”

It was purely reactionary on his part, Seokjin assumed, and some part of his memory locking into place. Because he was able to catch his attacker off guard and break the hold the man had on him. With a shout he forced the man back, and then Seokjin barked out at him, “This is my home!”

There were shadows dancing in the room now, shadows in various shades, lit by the moon flowing through the open door, and it was only this that afforded him the sight of his attacker lunging at him.

Seokjin ducked down and scrambled across the room. He heard the sound of the other man hitting the wall Seokjin had been pressed up against, but the only thing he could focus on was getting to the front door.

He’d made it just a few feet before a cold grip latched onto his ankle and dragged him back.

“Get off me!” Seokjin yelled, kicking out and miraculously enough, landing some hits. He wrestled his way onto his back, giving himself more leverage, and put even more force into his kicks.

Seokjin practically cheered victory when the man groaned out, “You fucking little punk!” right as Seokjin drove the heel of his foot into something that felt suspiciously like the man’s nose.

“I said,” Seokjin ground out, breathing hard, “this is my house.”

The focus was back on the door after that. Seokjin slammed his way up to his knees, ignoring the stabbing pain of flesh against hardwood, and wobbled as he tried to get to his feet. His hands pushed down on the floor for leverage, and the lunged forward with momentum.

He saw stars.

Proverbial stars, of course

But he saw them all the same.

His hearing was cutting out, and his vision was blurry as he focused up at the moon.

He could see the moon.

But he couldn’t think properly due to the sheer pounding of drums in his head, vibrating down his body painfully.

“Little bastard,” the other man ground out, and he knelt by Seokjin.

The pieces came back to Seokjin that moment.

He’d almost made it to the door. This had been his best effort yet, and he’d nearly made it. Then he’d gotten tackled to the ground harder than he’d really thought possible. His head must have hit the ground hard, maybe hard enough to cause a concussion, because his eyes were still trying to focus on the moon.

That was probably the cruelest part. He’d gotten so close to the door that he could see the moon from his position on the floor.

“You’ve made this much harder than it needed to be,” the man said, but he sounded nasally, like maybe Seokjin really had managed to kick him in the face.

“You don’t want to do this,” Seokjin breathed out, tearing his eyes away from the moon, and looking at the man looming above him.

He absolutely didn’t recognize who it was. Of course, he couldn’t make out any clear features, but nothing about the man seemed familiar. With his eyesight refusing to focus, and the ringing in his head distracting him, he could just see a pale face, dark hair, and dark clothing.

“I don’t want to do what?” he man asked, crunching a shoe down on Seokjin’s wrist. Seokjin hadn’t been reaching out for anything, he’d just been sprawled out naturally, still stunned from the hit he’d taken.

Seokjin pushed through the haze to say, “This.  Whatever this is. You don’t want to do this. Don’t you know who lives here?”

“Of course I know, Kim Seokjin.”

The man planted his himself on either side of Seokjin’s torso and squatted down over him.

“And you still want to do this?” Seokjin asked in disbelief. “Knowing who’s going to come after you?”

Mockingly, the man said, “I’m not worried about your boyfriend, Doctor Kim. In fact, I’m pretty much hoping he gives me the reaction I’m looking for. I’ll be very disappointed if he doesn’t.”

The man let off Seokjin’s wrist finally, and he could have wept with relief. His wrist was sore, but nothing felt damaged. A broken wrist would have spelled disaster for any surgery he needed to perform.

“Who are you?” Seokjin demanded. His heart was banging in his head now, his pulse thrumming along at a dangerous pace. Seokjin wished he could mark the passage of time. How long had it been since he’d sent a call out for help? How long had he slunk through the hallways, and hidden in the darkness?

Instead of answering his question, the man provided, “You should have come out when I said to. Now I’m not going to play nice with you.”

A big hand clamped deftly around Seokjin’s throat and squeezed hard. A second one joined the first.

Air cut off right away, and Seokjin knew what the grip felt like. This was someone who knew exactly what he was doing. His windpipe was being crushed by someone who was an expert at it.

Panic set in right away.

Seokjin pulled and tugged at the hands pushing down at him, ripping the life from him.

His feet flailed.

He could hear himself gagging.

Then the world was going hazy. More than before. The world was blurring shades of black into complete darkness, and Seokjin lost coordination of his limbs. His arms tumbled back down to the floor.

And he felt the bat.

He’d dropped it the first time he’d been caught by the man now trying his best to choke the life out of him. He’d dropped it and he’d never thought twice about it, because he’d been so wholly focused on getting out of the apartment.

It was the only thing that even came close to mattering now

With the last bit of strength Seokjin gripped the bat tight and swung with all his might.

He’d thought earlier that hitting someone with the bat would be a challenge for him. He’d thought he might not be able to do it.

Now, as he lay there on the floor, gasping in rough and ragged breaths of air, he felt stupid to have thought that.

Still, he rolled himself onto his side, towards the man he’d hit, and called out, “Are you dead?” He was terrified there’d be an answer. He was probably more scared there wouldn’t be.

But the man was quiet, and he was still, and if Seokjin squinted, he could see a darkness near the man’s head spreading out slowly.

Seokjin, feeling like his body weighed a million pounds, managed to get himself on his feet. He was still breathing hard, but the adrenaline was leaving him. The chemical responses in his body that were associated with survival, were dwindling, and now even moving a little was a struggle.

Seokjin stumbled is way over to the far wall, dragging the bat with him just in case, and turned the lights on.

It was like the full force of the sun was assaulting his eyes, but Seokjin blinked quickly to try and adjust quickly to the change.

He had his first proper look, then, at the man who’d come into his home, attacked him, and nearly killed him.

Seokjin still didn’t recognize his face, but it was hard to make out the man’s face anyway. He’d definitely broken the man’s nose with a kick, and he’d hit him at such an angle with the bat that he’d split the skin open on the side of his head and opened a slow chugging river of blood that was now coating the man’s face.

Seokjin’s shoulders heaved at he gave the man an even longer look over. This man was … he wasn’t some lacky. There was evidence in the way he’d moved, the way he’d spoken, and now in the way he was dressed. He was in black, but the clothing items were tailored, and fitted, and of high quality.

So who was the man?

“You’re lucky,” Seokjin told the unconscious man, ambling his way back over and leaning down to check he still had a pulse, “that I’m a doctor.” He’d swung to save his life, but he wasn’t going to let someone bleed out on his floor. Plus, Seokjin probably hadn’t swung with much of his regular strength, but any blunt force trauma to the head could be catastrophic, so at the very least the man needed to be checked out at the hospital.

One of the biggest rules Namjoon had, when it came to gang business, was not to involve outsiders. That meant police, but it also meant other first responders.

“I don’t have a choice,” Seokjin mumbled to himself. No one from Bangtan was there yet, the man who’d attacked him needed medical help, and Seokjin? The world had come back into focus to only start spinning around.  He felt like he was going to be sick, or pass out.

Seokjin knew when to cut his losses.

He called for a paramedic, set to work trying to staunch the blood flow on the man’s head, and desperately hoped someone from Bangtan showed up before the ambulance.

“Oh, holy fuck,” Jungkook said as he arrived at the apartment just as Seokjin was being loaded up into an ambulance. He had a veritable army of men behind him, each one looking more horrified than the next. Seokjin wanted to reassure them that nothing was their fault, because they all looked like they were terrified of being blamed.

“One,” Seokjin told him tiredly, “you have the worst timing as usual.”

Jungkook wasted no time climbing up into the ambulance with him, face tense with fear.

“And two,” Seokjin continued, letting Jungkook hold his hand and squeeze as hard as possible, “watch your language.”

Jungkook gave him an incredulous look. And considering the situation, Seokjin probably thought it was worth free pass on vulgarity.

“Sir, I need you to lean back,” the paramedic in the ambulance insisted.

Seokjin did so, but Jungkook told the man tersely, “My brother is a doctor, okay? I think he’ll cue you in if he needs you to do something for him—not the other way around.”

“Jungkook,” Seokjin ground out.

“No,” Jungkook shot out, sounding on the verge of a panic attack. His grip was getting tighter on Seokjin’s hand. “I got … I got that text from you, and I was all the way on the other side of town, and you weren’t responding, and then when I got to your place there were police everywhere, and ambulances, and—”

“Breathe,” Seokjin coached, then wrapped an arm around his brother has best he could, and pulled him down for a hug. When they were in close proximity, he promised, “I’ll tell you everything as soon as I can.”

He meant, of course, when they didn’t have someone eavesdropping on their every conversation.

Jungkook gave an understanding nod, and asked frankly, “How badly hurt are you? What about your heart?”

The paramedic made to answer, as the ambulance wove its way through traffic.

But Jungkook cut the man off with a sharp look and said, “I’m pretty sure my brother, the actual doctor, can tell me what’s wrong with him.”

Frustrated, Seokjin let his eyes close as he leaned back on the gurney. “Jungkook.”

Jungkook shot back smartly, “Seokjin.”

“Sir,” the paramedic tried again.

Seokjin ignored him. He knew he had a concussion. He knew he was bruised and battered, and he knew he needed to have his windpipe looked at. He greatly respected first responders like paramedics, but the last thing he needed was anyone trying to treat him at the moment. He’d keep until the hospital. And the more important thing was comforting Jungkook who was a lot more scared than he was letting on.

“Where’s Namjoon?” Seokjin asked Jungkook, tucking Jungkook’s hand a little closer to his side. “Does he know what happened?”

Jungkook was clearly choosing his words carefully as he said, “Yeah, he knows. He’s probably already at the apartment now, so he’ll be coming to the hospital just minutes after us, I’m sure. He was just … he was further across town than I was. But he knows, Jin. He knows and I think he’s going to go nuclear.”

“Get on the phone with him when we get to the hospital,” Seokjin told him. “Calm him down.”

Jungkook looked ready to revolt. “You were attacked, Jin! Someone came into your home and hurt you. You don’t think your boyfriend has a right to be freaked out, and angry, and ready to light stuff on fire—or people, preferably people.”

Seokjin used the leverage of their joined hands to tug Jungkook closer. He said, “Namjoon can’t afford to lose control. Do you understand what I’m saying? Until we know the why, no one can lose control.”

“I’m not just going to leave you at the hospital,” Jungkook vowed.

“You can’t come in with me when we arrive,” Seokjin told him knowingly “They have to process me, get me looked over by a doctor, and then assigned a room. Until then, you need to do … damage control.”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered to the paramedic for a second, before going back to Seokjin. “Did you see the apartment? I don’t think Ra—Namjoon is going to be interested in damage control.”

Dryly, Seokjin mumbled, “Why yes, I did see the apartment. I happened to be there when it was all happening.” After he’d called for an ambulance, and for the police, and got to work staunching the bleeding from the man who’d attacked him, Seokjin had let himself sit back and look at the state of the apartment.

The door being kicked in, or busted down, was just the start of the damage. During Seokjin’s scuffle with the intruder, they’d managed to knock over lamps, upturn tables, break decorative items, and generally wreck the place. It looked like a war zone, and Seokjin was just glad to have survived.

“Just … just do your best,” Seokjin finished wearily. And then he was content to ride the rest of the way to hospital in peace, with Jungkook’s hand in his own.

It was a whirlwind of action when he arrived at the hospital a few minutes later, but not anything unexpected. Seokjin was whisked away, being treated as a high priority patient because of his heart condition, and Jungkook being sent away from the patient only area.

The doctors fussed over Seokjin, even after he assured them that most of his injuries were superficial, and even after presenting his own medical knowledge as leverage. They still fussed, they still treated him like he was a delicate flower, and they still refused to let him rest in peace until they’d run a series of tests and seemingly convinced themselves that his heart was relatively stable.

Then they tried to tell him that visiting hours were over, and he wasn’t going to be allowed to see anyone.

“Listen,” Seokjin said, looking his attending doctor straight in the eyes and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He was hooked up to a heart monitor, and he’d been given a mild painkiller for the bruising at his throat that was starting to swell. “Either you’re going to let my brother in here, and my boyfriend, so I can see both of them and make sure they’re not going to have a stroke from the stress, or I’m going to sign myself out—against medical advice if necessary, and walk through those doors right there.”

“You listen,” the doctor replied, her hair pulled back into a severe bun and nothing even remotely warm on her face. Though she didn’t look cruel, she just looked overworked and too tired. “You’re exhibiting signs of strain on your heart—your numbers are up even from your normal range, and you have a moderate concussion. Don’t think just because you have a medical degree, that you can throw your weight around here.”

Seokjin felt a little petulant pushing his feet down on the ground. He narrowed his eyes at her and said, “I know better than anyone else what my heart in trouble feels like. I know when to pull back and not push myself, regardless of my numbers—which, by the way, have proven to be unreliable in the past when I’m put in a stressful situation. But for the sake of professional respect, how about we cut a deal with each other?”

The barest hint of something amused cut across his doctor’s face, and it made her so much more personable he was almost fooled into forgetting how stern she had been only seconds earlier.

She offered, “I’m listening.”

In no uncertain terms, Seokjin said, “I want to see my family. Even if it’s just for a few minutes, and they have to come in one at a time, I want to see them. And if you do that for me, not only will I stay in this bed where you want me, but I’ll cooperate in every way possible, and I’ll put in a good word for you.”

An eyebrow of hers arched. “A good word?”

“With the Chief of this hospital,” Seokjin said brazenly. “Lee Heesung? He was one of my father’s closest friends when I was growing up, and I did a summer interning with him when I was younger. He’s practically an uncle.”

So maybe Seokjin was stretching the truth a little. But the hospital’s most senior ranked doctor had been a friend of Seokjin’s father, and Seokjin had shadowed him for some time before he’d declared a focus in his medical studies. They weren’t like family, but they were on friendly enough terms. The man had even come to Seokjin’s father’s funeral.

Seokjin rather hated to play dirty, but considering what had transpired, Seokjin had to talk to Namjoon. And he just wanted to see Jungkook.

Her chest heaved in a deep breath, and then his doctor said, “I’ll disregard how you just painted our proposed deal with dirty leverage, and I’ll offer up one visit with one family member, for ten minutes. Or else I’ll call up your cardiologist, who I happen to know personally, and let her know what a pain in my side you’re being. I’m just going to take a guess here, but Minah will probably side with me on this matter, over you.”

Seokjin laughed. His throat rattled from the effort, and it hurt, but the laughter felt good, too. He’d always preferred doctors treating him to give as good as they got. And the truth was the medical community based out of Seoul was rather small. Most surgeons knew each other, and or knew of each other.

Seokjin wagered back, “One visit with my boyfriend for fifteen minutes, and my brother gets to stay overnight in the room with me—he is family and I know it’s not too late to get a cot up here.”

Because of his heart, and likely his status as a doctor, they’d given him his own private room. And while it wasn’t gigantic, it was more than big enough for two people, especially since the sofa by the window looked like it might pull out into a bed. Even if it didn’t, Seokjin wanted Jungkook with him for the night.

He told himself it was because Jungkook tended to act rashly and emotionally. Seokjin could see Jungkook roaming the streets that night, looking to pick a fight in order to get his fear and frustration out. But mostly Seokjin knew his brother, and Jungkook would want to anchor against him while they breathed through the whole mess.

For a moment, Seokjin’s doctor didn’t say anything to his counter-offer. Then, somewhat slowly, she agreed, “Alright. But in addition, you agree not to be discharged prematurely tomorrow, like I know you’ll want to. You stay as long as I say you need to.”

“I’ve got work tomorrow,” Seokjin replied.

“That’s the deal,” she said, crossing her arms. “Take it or leave it.”

Of course Seokjin was going to take it.

That was why fifteen minutes after that, tucked back in bed, and with the blinds pulled down low in the room so he could sleep soon, he had Namjoon at his side.

“I’m going to kill someone for this,” Namjoon said, fingers reaching out to touch Seokjin, but then pulling back at the last second. He’d been hesitant from the moment he’d come into the hospital room, holding back visibly.

“I’m fine,” Seokjin insisted, catching Namjoon’s fingers and bringing them to his neck. He knew that was where Namjoon had reached out for, and then the swelling and the discoloration had deterred him. “I swear it.”

“You’re not okay,” Namjoon argued in the privacy of the room. His fingers were featherlight on Seokjin’s skin, so much that a shiver ran through him. “Oh god, you’re not okay. Someone tried to strangle you.”

Smiling, Seokjin enjoyed the feeling of pain medication running through him, and tugged Namjoon properly up on the bed.

“I don’t wanna pull something out,” he hesitated, but eventually managed to settled down, pressed up against Seokjin’s warmth. “There’s some wires.”

The medication was making Seokjin even more sleepy, but he fought back the sensation to say, “I have no idea what happened.”

“You …” Namjoon scoffed in disbelief. He had his head pillowed next to Namjoon’s, and his arm tucked securely around Seokjin’s waist. “This was deliberate. You were attacked deliberately.”

“I kind of figured that,” Seokjin agreed. “The man, whoever he was, he knew who I was. He knew where we lived. He … knew exactly what he was doing. Nothing was random or by chance.”

“I mean,” Namjoon stressed out, his fingers slipping around Seokjin’s hip, “what happened is that some bastard was watching us for god knows how long, he waited until I left, and then he tried to hurt you because of me. Fuck. Jin, that sighing of Myungsoo? I guarantee you it was absolutely bullshit, and it was just to get me out of that apartment.”

Seokjin frowned. “You think?”

“I know,” Namjoon responded. “I know how something like this works.”

They had such little precious time before Namjoon had to leave, but Seokjin didn’t want to ruin the moment between them. There was something calming and cathartic about simply laying on a bed with Namjoon.

“You saw the apartment?” Seokjin asked.

“I saw the apartment,” Namjoon said tensely. “You’d already left for the hospital by the time I got to the apartment. Suga was trying to figure out what hospital they’d taken you to by then, and I saw the inside of the apartment.”

“I was scared,” Seokjin admitted, looking up at the pristine white ceiling of the room. “But not like I used to be.”

Namjoon sat up a little, and looked at him with sad eyes. “That’s not something I ever wanted to hear you say. You shouldn’t become desensitized to this kind of thing. That’s not okay.”

But what else did Namjoon think was bound to happen? Seokjin wasn’t just some naïve doctor anymore. He wasn’t someone experiencing gang violence for the first time. He’d been kidnapped before, several times, and had his life seriously threatened.

Curiously, Seokjin asked, “Does anyone know who he was?”

“Is,” Namjoon corrected. “He’s still alive, unfortunately. You couldn’t have hit him a little harder?”

Seokjin wondered, “Jungkook told you about that, did he?” In the ambulance, just before they’d arrived at the hospital, Jungkook had asked Seokjin how he’d held off his attacker.

“I don’t think you’re some weakling, or anything,” Jungkook had said indulgingly. “But this guy who came at you … it seems like he was a pro. How’d you end up winning against him?”

In his early onset drug haze, Seokjin had said plainly, “You know that baseball bat you left at my place months ago? I hit the guy with it. As hard as I could. He wasn’t expecting it and I got lucky.”

Lucky didn’t begin to cover it.

“You should have shot that bastard,” Namjoon said.

“No,” Seokjin said roughly, and this was something he’d been anticipating.

Sitting up more fully, Namjoon said sharply, “There was a gun in the bedside drawer the entire time. You know it’s there—it’s always there just in case. And it’s loaded.”

“No,” Seokjin said again, and without preamble. “I would never have been able to use that gun, and you know it. I shouldn’t have to be explaining to you why that was never an option.”

Namjoon scrubbed his fingers over his face. “I’m not trying to be an ass,” he insisted. “Of course I know why. You know I know why, and I get it. But if you’d just …if you had been willing to use the gun I keep there for safety, you could have taken that bastard down right away. Jin, he nearly killed you.”

Seokjin had known the gun was there. From the moment he’d realized there was someone in his home, he’d known. Namjoon was more predictable with the gun there, than the sun rising in the east. But for Namjoon to think he could ever pick up a gun, let alone shoot at someone?

In a trembling voice, Namjoon admitted, “You almost died and I wasn’t there.”

Careful of the IV line in the back of his hand, and the heart monitor clip on his finger, Seokjin put his arms around Namjoon and jerked him close.

“Don’t you say that,” he mumbled into Namjoon’s ear

“Why not?” Namjoon demanded. “You get hurt and I’m never there to stop it.”

“You,” Seokjin insisted, hugging even tighter, “are never to blame for the actions of others. You’re only responsible for the things you do, and how you react to the choices of other. So yes, I was scared tonight. I even thought I was going to die for a few seconds. But I was happy, too.”

There was moisture in Namjoon’s eyes as he reared back with confusion on his face. “Happy? Why?”

“Because you weren’t there,” Seokjin explained softly. “If you’d been there, you could have been hurt. And that’s not something I think I could handle. I can endure anything, if it means you aren’t hurt.”

Namjoon sunk back into his embrace, and it felt like something the both of them needed.

“I’m going to find out who this bastard is,” Namjoon vowed when they were dangerously close to their fifteen minutes being up. “I’m going to find out who he’s working for—who sent him, and then I’m going to kill him.”

It was chilling for Seokjin to realize how literally Namjoon probably meant that.

“I’m sorry I called the police.” Seokjin said. He hooked his fingers against Namjoon’s. “I didn’t want to, I know they just complicate things, but I didn’t know when any of you were going to get there, or if the guy who attacked me had backup, and I had to make a choice.”

“You did the right thing,” Namjoon assured.

“But the police are going to want to talk to me tomorrow morning.” Seokjin had already been warned by the doctors that the police were sniffing around. His medical condition gave him a pass on making a statement that night, which was a good thing—it gave him a chance to come up with what he wanted to say, but nothing was getting him out of it altogether.

Namjoon shrugged, “Then you’ll tell them what they want to hear. You’ll say you were home alone, I went out to the store for something, and a stranger broke in. You defended yourself.”

“And in the meanwhile?”

“In the meanwhile, Bangtan will handle this. Tonight.”

Seokjin pointed out, “You can’t just go roaming though this hospital looking for the guy in order to kill him. Use your brain. He’s getting medical treatment, but he’ll be placed directly into police custody after that. Don’t you think it’ll be overly suspicious if anything happens in that time?”

“You think I care?” Namjoon asked darkly. “People go missing all the time, Jin. Especially people who make poor choices and think they can hurt someone I love. The police know who I am. And as soon as they figure out who you are, I promise you they aren’t going to look too much into why this guy disappeared.”

That didn’t sit well with Seokjin, who pointed out, “You’re supposed to be building connections with the police, not coming dangerously close to treating them like Infinite did.”

A knock sounded at the door, and Seokjin sighed. No one came in the room, but it was clearly a warning.

“Bangtan is nothing like Infinite,” Namjoon said angrily.

“No,” Seokjin agreed. “So stop thinking you’re above the law, or that you can do what you want because you’re scared and upset.”

Bewildered, Namjoon asked, “Are you seriously trying to morally guilt trip me into not making sure a threat doesn’t take another swing at you?”

Seokjin pinched Namjoon’s side. “I’m asking you to stop being so reactionary. Just … just think about the consequences of rash actions. I’m not saying not to do what you think you have to. I’m not trying to tell you to do or not do anything. I know this is your world, Namjoon. I know the choices you have to make. But talk to Yoongi. Talk to people you trust. Think your actions through before you take them. Be a good example for Jungkook.”

Namjoon folded in a little.

“I love you,” Seokjin said firmly as he took Namjoon’s face in his hands lovingly and kissed him. “Thank you for being here for me now, for always trying to do the right thing, and for being a man worth standing next to.”

The door to the hospital room was swinging open as Namjoon groaned out, “I love you so much,” and kissed him back.

“I believe I’ve upheld my part of the bargain,” Seokjin’s doctor said from the doorway.

Seokjin snuck another kiss to Namjoon as the man whispered, “J-Hope is staying here tonight, just in case. If you need anything, have Jungkook pass it along to him.

“Come get me tomorrow?” Seokjin asked. His doctor was a tough one, but he was fairly certain in the morning everything would come out clean for him, and he’d be allowed to leave.

Namjoon winked at him. “Of course.”

Namjoon was out the door before Seokjin’s doctor told him, “I’ve given your brother the okay to stay the night with you. Don’t make me regret it. He looks like a bucket of energy.”

Seokjin laughed a little and said, “You have no idea.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jungkook whispered to him when things had quieted town, and the two of them were lying in relative peace. The sofa in the room actually had pulled out into a bed, and now Jungkook was occupying it with his feet hanging over the edge.

“I promise,” Seokjin said kindly. “I’m more worried about the repercussions of this.”

“You’re worried Rap Mon is going to kill someone,” Jungkook translated. “The guy who did this.”

“Not just him,” Seokjin eased out.

Jungkook made a soft sound, then said, “Jimin said Rap Mon thinks he got lured out of the apartment on purpose tonight, so someone could take a shot at you.”

“He does,” Seokjin agreed. “He’s probably right.” There was no denying the logic behind the thought.

The room filled with the sound of Jungkook shuffling around on the sofa bed, and then he said quietly, “I don’t want to do this again. I don’t want you to be hurt anymore.”

Seokjin rolled more towards him, and wished they were closer.  “I know what I got myself into. I don’t regret it, even when things like this happen. Because you’re happy, and I love Namjoon, and if life wasn’t complicated or difficult at times, then it wouldn’t be worth much, would it? So don’t be sorry. Just be Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s voice was a little muffled as he said, “I love you, Jin,” but it was filled with warmth. “And just so you know, I think you’re a total badass.”

“I love you too,” Seokjin said back, with a grin. And then he burrowed into his blankets, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.


	9. Chapter Nine

“This is absolutely ridiculous you realize, right?”

From where the car had stopped, Seokjin watched the steady flow of young people stream into the tall building in front of them. There were some people lingering around outside, chatting with each other, but most of them were focused on getting inside.

“Ridiculous,” Jungkook repeated himself. “This is ludicrous. It’s lunacy. It’s—”

From the driver’s seat, Namjoon turned to Seokjin and asked, “You’ll still love me if I toss your brother out of the car, right?”

Before Seokjin could answer, Jungkook pulled himself forward in the car to whine out, “Mom, are you gonna let dad talk about me like that?”

Seokjin knocked Jungkook back with a solid push to his forehead. “Considering I’m judging the merit of loving Namjoon more than you just a little bit more every time you call me mom, are you sure you want to try that with me?”

The car was parked, and the engine was off, so Seokjin wasn’t surprised when Namjoon’s hand crossed the center consul and gripped his own tightly in solidarity and support.

Teasingly, Namjoon said, “I love you more than I love Jungkook.”

Jungkook flopped back in his seat, groaning loudly. “Parents.”

Seokjin leaned over to Namjoon for a quick kiss, then told his brother, “Be thankful we drove you here and let you miss your first class of the day. You’re not missing your second, and stop being ungrateful. We could have made you take the bus from the hospital this morning.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” Seokjin tossed back at him.

The crowd of people in front of the university was starting to thin out as Jungkook argued, “My brother just got attacked less than twenty-four hours ago. We don’t know who sent the guy, we don’t know why this happened, and we don’t know if the person behind this is going to try again.”

“Agreed,” Namjoon said evenly—tensely.

“But,” Jungkook carried on, “my brother wants me to go to school.”

Seokjin sighed, then turned in his seat to look at Jungkook. He said, “Nothing is more important than your education. Do you understand that? Even if this is not something serious for you, it is for me. The education you’re getting now will help you over the course of your entire life.”

“I know,” Jungkook said petulantly.

“And,” Seokjin continued, “the man who attacked me officially slipped into a coma this morning.”

Seokjin kind of thought that was maybe the only reason the man was still alive. And even that seemed a miracle.

In a show of support, Namjoon brushed back a stray clump of hair hanging down on Seokjin’s forehead, and urged, “You did what you had to in order to protect yourself. Never feel sorry for that. You didn’t go out of your way to hurt anyone. You didn’t intentionally hurt that man, even if he deserved every bit he got. You acted to save your own life, and there’s no guilt in that. Never.”

From the back seat, Jungkook said softly, “I’m proud of you.”

In the morning, when Seokjin had woken up, Jungkook had already been up. He’d folded the sofa back into place, tucked his blankets up, and was nursing a glass of orange juice while he tapped something out on his phone. But when he’s noticed Seokjin was awake, the look he’d given Seokjin …

Seokjin never wanted that look to grace his brother’s face again.

“My point is,” Seokjin said, eyes moving from his brother to Namjoon, “we’re not going to get anything from the man who broke into the apartment last night. And as of right now, there’s no trace as to where he came from. There are no leads.”

Jungkook interrupted, “I could be out there, getting leads.”

“And you will,” Seokjin argued right back. “After your last class lets out. Not before. Because we are not going to let something like this upend our entire lives. We’re stronger and better than that.”

Jungkook fell silent.

“There’s nothing to be done right now,” Seokjin finished softly. “Nothing that can’t wait, at least. So what good would it do if I let you cut class? Would you just come hang out at my clinic all day and keep an eye on me like I’m a child?”

Jungkook had probably planned to do that, Seokjin assumed.

“He’s gonna be safe,” Namjoon broke in, turning in his own seat to look at Jungkook. “I’m going to keep Jin safe, okay. But he’s right. We can’t just let our lives stop completely because of this. We have to find out what’s going on, but we have to keep going, too.”

Jungkook insisted, “You shouldn’t be going to work today. You should be at home resting.” He seemed to realize what he’d said, and then quickly changed, “or my home, or dad’s apartment.”

Namjoon jerked sharply to Seokjin in surprise. “Wait, your dad’s apartment? You said you sold that place. You told me you did.”

Wincing, Seokjin said, “I did—I told you that. I just …”

He’d grown up there. He’d grown up in that apartment, learning to walk on the hardwood floors. It was where he’d shared a room with his sister until Jungkook came along, and where he’d decided to become a doctor.

There’d been birthday parties in that apartment, and Christmases.

Seokjin had done his best to repair his relationship with his father in that apartment. And they’d had good memories in the time his father had had left.

Seokjin had gone on to sell his other father’s properties with ease. But when it had come to the sprawling apartment located in downtown Seoul, Seokjin hadn’t been able to do it.

Now the apartment was just sitting vacant, like a moment out of time. He still had a housekeeper come in once a week and dust everything. He paid for the upkeep of the apartment, and kept it to his father’s standards. But no one was living there.

“I just couldn’t,” Seokjin answered simply. “I tried to. I thought I wanted to. And then when the time came, I couldn’t sell. I think there are too many memories to just sell away.” He shrugged a little hopelessly. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with the place now.”

“I understand,” Namjoon told him strongly. “I get it. We’ll figured out what to do. But in the meanwhile.” Namjoon gestured for Jungkook to get out.

Jungkook vowed, “As soon as I get out of class I’m gonna figure things out right away. Do you understand? Neither of you is gonna get in my way of figuring out who ordered this.”

Jungkook hopped out of the car then, bag in hand, and hurried in towards the big building.

“That kid is a terror,” Namjoon breathed out. “But I love him a lot.”

“That’s exactly how I feel,” Seokjin laughed out, kissing Namjoon again.

They sat there in front of the school for a little longer, and that was when Namjoon, offered, “You don’t have to go to work today, you know. When you called Jonghyun this morning and told him what happened, I was standing near you. I heard him practically beg you to stay home.”

Darkly, Seokjin asked, “What home is that? The home that I thought was safe but was attacked in?” He felt a rush of anger at himself the moment the words were free from his mouth, and was quick to add, “I’m sorry, Namjoon. That didn’t come out right.”

“Didn’t it?” Namjoon wondered. “You’re not wrong. You thought you were safe there. You should have been safe there.”

But he hadn’t been, and now a lot of people were dead.

That had been one of the first things Seokjin had asked Namjoon in the morning, before he’d even been cleared to go home. He’d gotten up in the morning and submitted to the battery of tests his doctor had demanded. He’d given more blood, let them take another look at his heart, and even undergone another MRI.

And while he’d been waiting for the results to come back and for his doctor to release him, he’d asked Namjoon about the men who’d been set to watch the apartment for protection.

“We found the first two right away,” Namjoon had admitted, barely looking like he wanted to meet Seokjin’s gaze. “The two that should have been the best line of defense between you and that bastard who busted down the front door. We found them easily, but I’m glad you didn’t. I’m glad you didn’t see their bodies when the ambulance arrived.”

Seokjin hadn’t asked how they’d died.  But he knew they weren’t the only ones. There’d been at least two other men watching the apartment, further out, and they’d been killed as well.

So now, Seokjin felt like he had the blood of four men on his hands, or five if the stranger in the hospital didn’t make it.

“I’ll never be completely safe,” Seokjin argued back to Namjoon now. “I accepted that the moment I decided I wanted a future with you.”

Namjoon put his hands on the steering wheel and looked straight ahead. He promised, “We’ll go to a safehouse tonight, and then tomorrow we’ll have a brand-new apartment to call home. We’ll—”

“No,” Seokjin said sharply.

“No?” Namjoon eased out slowly. “No you don’t want to go to a safehouse tonight? Would you rather stay with a friend? Or with Jungkook? He and Jimin keep their apartment like a dump, but you’ll be safer there right now than anywhere else.”

Settling back into his seat facing forward for the drive, Seokjin said, “I mean, we’re not getting a new apartment.”

“Are you serious?”

“As serious as a heart attack.”

Namjoon did not look amused as he said, “How about you, of all people, don’t make that joke? But more importantly, yes, we are getting a new apartment. That guy from last night busted down the door. He took out the eyes I had on the place, busted down the door, and tried to kill you.”

Seokjin replied, “Do you think this new place we move to will mysteriously be located where no one can find it ever? Namjoon, it’s an unfortunate truth that we attract trouble. And if one sniffs around long enough, it’s always going to be possible for our private lives—including where we live, to be found out. Moving won’t make us safer.”

Namjoon started the car, but he made no move to actually drive anywhere. Instead, incredulously, he demanded, “You want to stay in the apartment that you almost died in?”

Seokjin could understand Namjoon’s frustration and dismay. When Sunggyu had broken into their own place, and ultimately ended up killing himself in the kitchen, Seokjin hadn’t been able to stay there. The place had felt sullied.

But this … this felt different.

“I’m not going to go running scared,” Seokjin declared, daring Namjoon to challenge him.

“There’s a difference between being brave, and being foolish.”

“I agree,” Seokjin said, unable to help glancing back out the window at the school Jungkook had gone into.  “But I’m not going to be run out of my home. Whoever sent that guy last night, Namjoon, he’s going to know anywhere we go. It wouldn’t be hard to follow me home after a shift at work. So if that’s the case, I want to stay in my home. In the home that I picked out with the man I love, and made memories in, and yes, that I feel safe in.”

Namjoon deadpanned at him.

“Mostly safe,” Seokjin amended.

“You’re killing me here,” Namjoon said, setting the emergency brake back into place and merging the into the midmorning traffic. “Jin. Seriously.”

“It’s my home,” Seokjin said, “and I won’t be run out of my home.”

To that, Namjoon didn’t answer, so Seokjin was willing to wager that even if he was putting up a fuss, Namjoon felt exactly the same way.

They were roughly halfway to the hospital when Seokjin asked, “I did okay with the police, right?”

That morning, as expected, and right before he’d been cleared to leave the hospital, the police had come with their questions. They’d asked him the normal things of course, about noticing anything strange before the break in, and if he’d seen the stranger before. But then they’d asked him other things, too. Things about Namjoon. They’d asked him enough about Namjoon, and in specific enough ways, for Seokjin to garner that they didn’t think highly of Seokjin’s boyfriend.

Seokjin hadn’t really expected to have the police on his side, but he’d expected a little more professionalism.

“V’s on it,” Namjoon assured. “He’s already called up his guys on the force, and has spoken to most of his police contacts. He says that everything is pretty normal right now. If the police knew about this beforehand, they certainly kept it hush.”

Deep creases set onto Seokjin’s face. “How could the police have known about this?”

“The police, at least in this city, are always on someone’s payroll. Just because they’re not on ours, doesn’t mean they aren’t on someone else’s.”

The frown on Seokjin’s face didn’t let up as he said, “Having the police on beck and call, that’s Infinite’s thing.”

Tensely, Namjoon said, “That’s Suho’s thing, too.”

Seokjin balked, “Come on, there’s no way.”

“Whoever ordered this, it wasn’t him,” Namjoon said confidently enough that Seokjin believed him absolutely. “Suho buys off the cops for information, not for power. There’s a difference.”

Sinking back into his seat, Seokjin said, “All the same, I answered their questions as … ambiguously as possible. I didn’t lie, but they were fishing around for info on you. I didn’t give them anything and I think I may have pissed them off.”

“That’s why I love you,” Namjoon laughed out.

There was only a little time for chatter after that, with traffic lights mostly green, before they reached the clinic. Seokjin was meant to have opened the clinic that morning, but when that hadn’t been a possibility, with him in the hospital, Irene had covered for him. And now, as Seokjin anticipated getting out of the car and starting his shift, everything about the clinic—at least from the outside, looked absolutely normal.

“See,” Namjoon teased, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “It isn’t on fire without you there.”

“Ha-ha,” Seokjin said humorlessly, but he turned his head so they could kiss properly.

“We can just do this instead,” Namjoon suggested, getting a little handsy in the car. It was a bold move, considering how close they were to the clinic, and how professional Seokjin liked to keep all his relationships at work, but Namjoon was just so good at breaking down every bit of self-control in him.

“Do what?”

“This,” Namjoon insisted, his fingers finding the skin under Seokjin’s shirt. “I can blow Suga off, you can not go into work, and we can just sit in this car, make out, and not have to worry about anything.”

“Temping,” Seokjin agreed.

Namjoon sighed. “But?”

When he pulled back, Seokjin let him go. He straightened himself up and said, “But you know that’s not a realistic possibility. I need to go to work. I need normalcy right now. And you? You need to find out what happened last night. Agreed?”

“I know what happened last night,” Namjoon bit out. “I want to know who sent that guy. I’m going to find out.”

“Just don’t kill him,” Seokjin said with a wince. He could imagine Jimin slipping into the man’s room in the middle of the day, pressing a pillow over his face, and holding it down. Jimin was the kind of person who’d have no reservations about doing that, if ordered to, or if he felt it was necessary. But the man was in a coma. Seokjin didn’t think attacking him, when he was like that, was any better than what had happened to Seokjin himself.

The rest of Bangtan certainly disagreed, but Seokjin liked to think he had some sway over the members.

“Oh, I won’t kill him yet,” Namjoon insisted. “Next to you, he’s probably the safest person in the world right now.”

With false cheerfulness, Seokjin said, “Because he hasn’t woken up yet and given you the answers you want. That’s not comforting. Also, I didn’t just mishear you, did I? Tell the truth, am I about to walk in to my clinic and find half of Bangtan in there?”

“Half?” Namjoon scoffed. “We’re bigger than you seem to think. Half of us wouldn’t fit in there.”

Conveniently, Seokjin noticed more what Namjoon hadn’t said, rather than what he had.

“Who’s in there?” he asked bluntly.

Namjoon only waited a moment before answering honestly, “Some men you know, some you don’t. Less than you’re probably thinking. I am capable of using restraint. You seem to think opposite that, but I know how you feel about having my guys in there. So yes, there are some in there, blending in with the patients. Just in case. But they’re not going to make a scene. They won’t even be a nuisance. And they’ll give me enough peace of mind to let you out of my sight.”

Seokjin could see the look of conflict on Namjoon’s face.

And then the man admitted, “There’s nothing I want to do more than keep you by my side. I know this happened to you … but I feel … I feel like I was the one who was attacked. And the idea of letting you go from my side is …”

Seokjin could see Namjoon’s eyes go down to his neck. Despite the atrociously hot weather, he’d chosen a shirt with a high neck, mostly to hide the bruises that were starting to discolor into blues and greens. Namjoon had dropped a couple sets of clothing off for him in the morning to choose from, and Seokjin appreciated having the option of the shirt was wearing now.

As far as anyone at the clinic was concerned, excluding Jonghyun who was probably his best friend now other than Jungkook, he’d been home when the break-in had happened, but he’d managed to scare the would-be robber off. Seokjin wanted to keep it that way, too. He didn’t want anyone except for Jonghyun, who he trusted, to know someone had tried to kill him.

“You can’t cling,” Seokjin told him gently. “Even if you want to. Even if I want you to a little. You can’t cling. You taught me that half of all this is just keeping up appearances. So I’m going to go back to work like nothing happened to me, and you’re going to go be a fearless leader like you’re so good at, and the both of us are going to provide a united front.” He snuck in lowly, “We can cuddle later, okay? I know you like cuddles.”

Affronted, but in a mock way, Namjoon exclaimed, “How can you say that? I’m a grown man. I don’t like cuddles.”

“Liar,” Seokjin said with a grin.

Namjoon leaned in for what was clearly a goodbye kiss, and mumbled against Seokjin’s lips, “You’ve got your favorite nurse in there, too.”

With uncertainty, Seokjin asked, “My favorite nurse?’

Namjoon ribbed, “Nurse V. That’s what you call him, right? I want my men in the lobby of your clinic watching for threats there, staying out of your way. But I want someone you trust and like back there with you. Just in case.”

“So you’re making Taehyung shadow me the entire day?”

“Making him?” Namjoon scoffed. “He practically begged. And I figured of all the guys, he’s the one you mind the least hanging around you.”

Seokjin hadn’t said anything to anyone about it, except for Taehyung himself, but Seokjin really though Taehyung had potential. When Taehyung came around, and Seokjin had him doing simple, menial tasks, he was more than adequate. And when a medical procedure was going on around him, he was perceptive, and intuitive, and looked like he was picking up all kinds of knowledge.

If he wanted to apply himself, and make a go of it, Seokjin thought he had real potential in the medical field.

Seokjin didn’t think that was likely to happen anytime soon, though. Taehyung hadn’t sounded excited at the idea of nursing school or any kid of formal education when Seokjin had brought it up. But the potential was hard to deny.

And best of all, Taehyung had great bedside manner. That was something that couldn’t be taught. You either had a kindness to you, an empathy, a way of making patients feel at ease just by being you, or you didn’t. and Taehyung had that. He was personable. He was someone who made others smile easy, and feel comfortable, and that, more than anything else, was why he let Taehyung hang around the clinic the most.

Seokjin was willing to allow almost anything if it benefited his patients, and since none of the other doctors, nurses, or employees had complained, Taehyung had special privileges.

Seokjin wasn’t about to leave Taehyung alone with a patient anytime soon, but he brightened the room just by being in it.

“Just him?” Seokjin asked.

Namjoon admitted, “It was supposed to be V and Jimin with you, but honestly I kind of thought Jimin might start scaring your patients off, and he refused when I brought it up.”

That didn’t sound right. “He refused? He said he didn’t want to be at the clinic with me today?” That sounded completely opposite of Jimin.

They rarely, rarely talked about Jimin’s feelings for him, but Jimin never strayed too far away. And Seokjin could hardly believe that if Namjoon and the others were feeling over protective, that Jimin wouldn’t want to join in.

Jimin liked to pretend like they didn’t have a good repertoire going, but the opposite was true. Maybe things were always a little awkward when they spent time together, and always would be. But they had a fun kind of banter between the two of them. And Jimin could be a softie, not that he wanted anyone to know, when Seokjin hit on just the right subject. Jimin hated to admit such a thing, but Seokjin knew he liked it when the two of them were just talking, enjoying each other’s company—enjoying their steadily growing friendship.

So how was it possible that Jimin had refused to come to the clinic with Taehyung?

“He said,” Namjoon explained, “that you had more than enough people watching out for you today at the clinic. He said you didn’t need anyone else there, breathing down your neck, but that what you did need was even more people out on the streets, figuring out what happened. Figuring out who sent that guy after you.”

Okay, that did sound like Jimin. Practical to a fault.

“Fair enough,” Seokjin agreed.

“I thought about having J-Hope replace him,” Namjoon suggested. “But then I worried that J-Hope and V might be too absorbed with each other, and not focused where they need to be. So it’s just you and V today.”

Seokjin interjected, “And the twenty or so guys you’re putting in my waiting room.”

“More like ten.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes, then reached for the door handle. “I take it you’ll be back to get me at five, when you’re making me leave.”

“I’m not making you,” Namjoon chuckled. “Your doctor didn’t even want you going back to work today. She’s the one who said you needed to work a short shift. And I don’t think you’re going to die if you only get to spend five hours on your feet today, instead of ten. So I’m really not making you. I just happen to agree with your doctor that maybe you should take it easy after you had a huge ordeal.” His voice dropped as he said, “It’s a damn miracle your heart held up. A shock like that? An ordeal like you suffered? Jin. Listen to me, you got lucky with your heart. You’re the one who’s always telling me we shouldn’t take chances with your heart. I want to grow old with you, so we have to take every precaution with your heart to get there.”

In a resolved way, Seokjin said, “It shouldn’t be this easy for you to guilt trip me.”

Namjoon beamed. “It’s because I love you. And you love me. That’s why it’s love.”

“Must be,” Seokjin let himself grin out. “So I’ll see you at five?”

“I’ll let your brother come get you,” Namjoon said. “Maybe he’ll lower his blood pressure a little if he can see for himself that you’re just fine. I’ll have him bring you by the apartment.”

With a slight wince, seconds before he slid out of the car, Seokjin asked, “Will you get the door replaced?”

“I will,” Namjoon promised. “I love you. Have a good day at work.”

“I love you, too,” Seokjin replied, offered him a warm smile, and got out of the car.

He’d said he needed to get back to work and back to routine, and he’d meant it. The moment he was through the doors, greeting familiar patients, moving back into an accustomed hallway to mark his time card, everything fell back into place.

From his side, Taehyung appeared. He had clearly stolen a set of scrubs from someone, Moonbin judging by their similar sizes, and had his security badge clipped to his shirt. He gave Seokjin an exaggerated salute and said, “Nurse V reporting for his shift, sir.”

Seokjin pointed out, “I remember when you hated me calling that.”

Taehyung rocked back on his feet a little and said, “I didn’t hate it. I just thought you were being mean about it at first. Teasing, but not in a good way.”

Seokjin questioned, “You thought I was being mean to you at first?”

Taehyung hastened to defend, “I didn’t know you at first remember? I didn’t know what kind of person you were. Jungkook always said his brother was practically a saint, but we just had his word for that, and we hadn’t even known Jungkook that long. Maybe you were really a jerk. I didn’t know.”

In a sad way, Seokjin insisted, “I would never mock or disrespect you.”

“I know that now!” Taehyung insisted. “That’s why I like it when you call me Nurse V now. It makes me feel important.”

“You are important.”

Taehyung asked, “So you’re gonna let me be your nurse for that vasectomy you have scheduled for two today?” Taehyung nodded to the big board that they used to keep track of surgeries scheduled for the day.

Curiously, Seokjin asked him, “Do you know what a vasectomy is?”

“No,” Taehyung shrugged. “But I was figuring I could just stand next to you while you’re being a super cool surgeon, and pat your forehead when you sweat or something. What’s a vasectomy? Are you taking something out?”

Seokjin bit back a smile. “Oh, you could say that.”

“I want in,” Taehyung declared.

Seokjin tried to be a good person most of the time. He really tried. But once in a while a situation presented himself where he had to walk a line of being just a little evil. For the sake of balancing out the universe, of course.

Hours later, when the clock was inching towards five at night, and Seokjin was anticipating the arrival of Jungkook at any moment, he found Taehyung sitting in the employee lounge, face in his hands.

“You’ll be okay,” Seokjin promised, patting him on the back. “Want to get something to eat?”

Taehyung’s head popped up and he gave Seokjin a ghastly look. “You just cut up some guy’s balls a little while ago! How can you want to eat?”

Across the room Moonbin threw back his head and laughed. He was preparing to work until closing, and was only now taking his lunch break.

“Very funny!” Taehyung said angrily.  “Not!”

“I didn’t cut up anyone,” Seokjin insisted. “You would have known that if you hadn’t started rocking back and forth in the corner of the room, having a rather quiet but noticeable panic attack.”

Thankfully, Seokjin’s patient at the time, an endearing man with four children already, had found the entire situation hilarious.

While he’d been laughing himself silly on the operating table, Taehyung had been whispering, “And you didn’t say this was something you did while the guy was awake!”

“You learned a valuable lesson today,” Seokjin decided, tugging him up to his feet. He wanted to be ready to go when Jungkook got there.

From the sofa on the other side of the room, Moonbin called out, “Do your homework before you want in on something!”

Taehyung gave him a filthy look.

Jungkook was early, naturally, arriving a quarter to five and then pacing the waiting room until Seokjin was ready to go, Taehyung on his heels.

“Okay, okay,” Seokjin said when the three of them piled into Jungkook’s car. “Back to my apartment, please.”

Taehyung asked, “Did Rap Mon talk to you about how we all agree that’s probably a bad thing?”

Jungkook nodded from the driver’s seat. “You should totally be getting a new place after all this.”

Seokjin only said, “How about no commentary from you while you’re driving. I’m still not sure if you bribed your tester or not to get your license. Focus, okay?”

Jungkook defended, “I am a great driver! I’ve never had an accident.”          

Plainly, Seokjin said, unimpressed, “In the grand total of three months you’ve been driving?”

“You did hit that fence, remember?” Taehyung said.

Seokjin covered his face with his hands.

Without any more delay Jungkook drove them over to Seokjin’s apartment. And along the way, maybe even predictably so, anxiousness began to build. It wasn’t as if Seokjin suddenly wanted to take back his decision to keep his apartment. But there was some sense of impending doom as they got closer.

Maybe not doom.

Just … fear.

Seokjin told himself he was okay. He told Namjoon he was okay. He told Jungkook and all the others that he was perfectly okay. But he was choosing to stay in a place where he had very nearly died. It could have easily gone that he hadn’t miraculously felt the bat. Maybe he could have not swung hard enough. And then Namjoon would have come home to his cooling body.

He could have died so easily, and the stain of that wasn’t something that could be easily removed from the apartment.

“Everyone’s already up there,” Taehyung said when they parked almost directly in front of the apartment. “You ready?”

“Of course I’m ready,” Seokjin said as Taehyung hopped out of the car.

“You can totally not be ready,” Jungkook said, not budging from his own seat. “I wouldn’t be ready.”

“We’re going to be fine,” Seokjin insisted, giving Jungkook an encouraging smile. “Come on. Let’s go up there and see how much of the damage has gotten cleaned up.”

“You think some of it is?”

“All of it I should hope,” Seokjin said, following Taehyung’s lead and exiting the car.

There were far, far too many people in his home. That was what Seokjin noticed first. But not just in his home, because he wasn’t through the door yet, but outside. Littered around, some doing their best to not stand out and others failing miserably, were clusters of Namjoon’s men. There were too many of them, frankly.

“This is not going to be an everyday occurrence,” Seokjin said sourly to Jungkook as they walked nearly shoulder to shoulder. “The neighbors already hate us.”

None of them had said as much, but most of the neighbors didn’t appreciate the constant movement of people going in and out of the apartment, lingering around, and often loitering. They didn’t like the notoriety of Namjoon, and Seokjin by extension.

“Nah,” Jungkook agreed. “Probably just for a few weeks.”

Seokjin gave him a dark look. “That isn’t funny.”

Jungkook shrugged, “I definitely wasn’t kidding.”

When they got closer, Seokjin could see the door. It was out of place now, but only because it has been so clearly replaced. Gone was the pale blue door that had been there before, and then splintered into pieces the night before. And in its place was something off white, looking sturdier than the version that had come before it.

Seokjin gave it a long look as he passed by. The sound of the previous door being kicked in—something that was no small feat, was echoing in his mind.

“Jin!”

At the sound of Hoseok’s voice, Seokjin let himself focus instead on the inside of the apartment.

“Hello,” Seokjin offered, going to where Hoseok and Yoongi were standing in the living room.

The room itself was more bare than usual. A lot of the little knickknacks that he and Namjoon owned were missing, and a lot of the furniture had been moved around. It hardly looked like his apartment anymore. But the mess from the night before had been cleaned up, and it barely looked like a murder had nearly happened.

Yoongi asked him, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine, fine,” Seokjin insisted, looking around the apartment again. “Where did everything go? Where are my things?”

He abandoned Yoongi and Hoseok quickly and made a beeline for the bedroom. But he was breathing a sigh of relief the moment he was through the door. Everything was how he had left it. It was a room completely untouched.

“Rap Mon only told us this morning,” Yoongi said from behind Seokjin. “Come back in the living room, okay?”

Seokjin followed after him and asked, “What did he tell you?”

“That you wanted to stay,” Yoongi said.  With a bit of nudging and a stern look he got Seokjin to sit down on the sofa next to Jungkook.

His brother told him, “Rap Mon and Jimin are on their way over now. They’re bringing some dinner.”

“How does that explain some of my things being missing?” Seokjin asked Yoongi.

It was Hoseok who intercepted the conversation to say, “Everything will be back in its place by tomorrow, promise.” He was sprawled out on the floor in front of the sofa, legs extended out, and didn’t seem bothered in the least by Taehyung who was leaning a great deal of his weight on him.  “Some stuff had to be cleaned, firstly. So we had to take a lot down.”

“Cleaned?” Seokjin felt like his head was spinning.

Calmly, Yoongi said, “Some of your things were damaged in the altercation that happened last night. Some things had blood on them. We packed those things up to be cleaned. And then, until Rap Mon said something this morning, we assumed that you were going to want to stay somewhere else. No one predicted you’d say you wanted to stay, so we started the process early this morning of trying to get your things in order to be moved to a new place.”

Hoseok rushed to say, “We only got through some of the living room, and a little bit of the kitchen before Rap Mon said otherwise. So don’t freak out, okay? You stuff is safe and we’re gonna be bringing it back in soon. We just thought you probably didn’t want a million people in your apartment, moving your stuff around.”

Seokjin leveled out, “Just the million people stationed outside?”

Yoongi didn’t look amused as he said, “You talk to your boyfriend about that when he arrives.”

As it turned out, Seokjin didn’t have to wait long at all. Both Namjoon and Jimin arrived at the apartment just a short twenty minutes later, arms overloaded with food.

“I’m ready for it,” Namjoon said as food was being passed out and chatter was happening casually around them. There was a good feeling in the air around them, and this was something that Seokjin liked a lot. There was nothing that beat Seokjin just spending quality time with Jungkook, or lounging around with Namjoon. But there was a better, more electric feeling that came with Bangtan’s core members all being in the same spot, crowding up in each other’s space, enjoying the company they made.

“Ready for what?” Seokjin asked. Jungkook had abandoned his spot on the sofa for better access to the food, and Namjoon had swept in effortlessly to take his place.

Lowering his voice, Namjoon said, “The guys outside. The hovering I’m doing. The suffocation you must be feeling. I’m ready for it.”

Chopsticks in hand, Seokjin tried to root around inside himself for something that matched what Namjoon had said, but he couldn’t find it. In the moments between arriving at the apartment, and everything that had followed, Seokjin had felt nothing but peace and calm. He’d felt surrounded by family, and that had put him in a good mood.

“I don’t like the men outside,” Seokjin indulged him. “I think the sheer number of them is ridiculous.”

“I agree,” Yoongi offered, but he was barely paying attention to their conversation.

“But this?” Seokjin looked around the room before settling back on Namjoon. “Being here with you, and my brother, and people I truly enjoy very much? It makes up for everything else. This is good, Namjoon. Us like this? This is good.”

Over the past few weeks especially, the amount of time they’d all been able to spend together had diminished severely. So it felt extra special to be with all of them.

“You’re not smothering me,” Seokjin said certainly. “You’re certainly capable of it, but I’m not feeling smothered.” He pressed a kiss to Namjoon’s mouth. “Not yet at least.”

“None of that!” Jungkook flung one of the sofa pillows he’s taken with him to the floor, at Seokjin.

“I will end you,” Seokjin threatened back.

“I’d like to see you try, old man!”

Namjoon caught Seokjin’s arm and laughed out, “Don’t kill your bother, okay? It was pain in the ass to get the blood out of the floor from last night. We don’t want to do that again.”

Seokjin felt the world fall away from him a little, and he tried to picture, with full light in the room now, what the fight must have looked like. He tried to picture how they’d fought their way to and from one side of the room, crashing into the furniture, walls, and even a lamp.

There’d probably been blood splatter all over the place. Seokjin didn’t see any now but it must have been extensive. He’d hit the man with the bat hard, opened a gash on his head, and there’d been enough velocity for a good amount of splatter.

“Jin.”

A warm hand fell on his knee, and when Seokjin blinked back into the present, away from his thoughts, Namjoon was watching him with concern. Everyone else was, too. The apartment had gone silent.

“Just thinking,”

“You okay?” Jungkook asked tentatively. “Your doctor said you were okay to leave the hospital this morning, but …”

“But nothing,” Seokjin insisted. “I promise. I’m okay. Just thinking. Unlike you, that doesn’t hurt me.”

Jungkook stuck his tongue out.

Clearing his throat, Jimin surprised Seokjin by asking, “So you gonna let us stay here tonight or what?”

Slowly, Seokjin asked, “You want to … stay the night?”

A series of looks went around the room, and Seokjin felt absolutely left out. They’d clearly all talked about something without him.

“We’ve got everything on lockdown right now,” Namjoon eased out, then stuffed a large amount of food into his mouth to avoid having to say anything else.

“Sleep over!” Taehyung cheered.

Seokjin looked between them and asked, “You’re telling me that all of you are willing to sit here in this apartment for the night, not go prowling the streets for trouble, and you trust all your men out there to keep the streets safe, all so we can have a …slumber party?”

Yoongi said pointedly, “My sister has slumber parties. This is a …strategical opportunity to conference regarding specific—”

Hoseok decided, “Nah, we just wanna have a slumber party.”

Yoongi shook his head slowly.

Maybe they needed this, he considered. Each of them was looking at him like they expected him to up and vanish before them. And there had been a couple of instances in the past when groups of them had ended up sleeping in one place. It was pretty rare, but it had happened.

It felt a little like it needed to happen again. If only just once more.

“You know we’re all way too old for this,” Seokjin offered up.

Jimin said, “Jungkook’s like twelve at best, so not really.”

“Hey!”

“You mind?” Namjoon asked quietly, a warm hand rubbing along Seokjin’s lower back.

Seokjin knew that Namjoon would run them all out in a second if Seokjin didn’t want to share their space that night.

But the more he thought about, Seokjin was certain he needed them tonight, more than they needed him.

“Are you going to let me braid your hair?” Seokjin teased.

“I am such a pro at giving manicures,” Hoseok declared, and that made sense because he had three sisters.

Namjoon snuck a kiss to Seokjin’s hairline. “You can totally put my hair in braids if you want to. As long as it makes you happy.”

This time, uncaring what kind of reaction it might get from Jungkook, Seokjin let himself give Namjoon a daring kind of kiss, before saying, “I guess we’re having a sleepover then.”


	10. Chapter Ten

Standing in the archway between the living room and the kitchen, Seokjin was fairly sure he was watching an apt display of what having children with Namjoon one day would be like.

Behind him at the sink in the kitchen, washing some fruit, Yoongi mumbled, “If they break anything, I’ll start breaking them.”

Seokjin clamped down on laughter that wanted to break free. And he considered Yoongi was every bit what Seokjin hoped his first child with Namjoon was like. They hadn’t exactly sat down and spoken about the number of children they wanted, or at what point in their lives children would be a good addition, but Seokjin really had his fingers crossed for an eldest like Yoongi. One, at least, who’d be helpful to him, pragmatic or practical, and wouldn’t be part of the circus going on in the living room.

“You’re strangling me!” Taehyung shouted loudly, unfortunately caught under a pile of bodies in the middle of the living room floor.

Jungkook, doing his best to channel his inner wrestler, took a huge belly flop onto Hoseok, squishing Taehyung even further.

Hoseok, in a goading way, said loudly, “You’re beaten! Just admit defeat!”

Wincing, Seokjin saw Jimin across the apartment just seconds before he was flying through the room. Literally flying.

Well, flying for a couple of seconds, then falling, and falling hard onto warm bodies that groaned in response.

“Someone is going to die,” Seokjin decided.

“I’m dying!” Taehyung wailed dramatically.

And naturally, from the sofa, the one cheering them all on, was Namjoon.

“You’re a child,” Seokjin called over to him, but he couldn’t deny the happiness the sight of Bangtan just roughhousing and playing around, brought him. He genuinely thought it was a picture of their future, when he and Namjoon were raising children that simply wanted to play together on a lazy morning.

And it was all punctuated by the fact that Seokjin had been up early that morning and he’d gotten to enjoy the peace and silence of the apartment before chaos had broken out.

Because the night before, he hadn’t been able to sleep.

Namjoon had asked him before bed if he’d thought that would be an issue, and he’d offered Seokjin a sleeping aid.

“It’s not a sign of weakness,” Namjoon had insisted, lying stretched out in bed, his head cradled in the palm of his hand. “If I’d gone through what you had, I’d take something to knock me out, too.”

But Seokjin had always been fickle about the things he put into his body, and a sleep aid was a last resort. He’d been more than confident that if he laid in a still, quiet room for long enough, with Namjoon’s warmth next to him, he could fall asleep.

And he had.

He’d just also woken early and had almost no chance of going back to sleep.

So he’d stepped his way carefully through the apartment, e-reader in hand.

Most of Bangtan had been holed up in the living room despite there being a spare bedroom, with Taehyung and Hoseok practically molding into one person as they lay draped over each other on the sofa. Yoongi was sleeping deeply in the recliner, feet hanging over the extended footrest. And Jungkook, under a pile of blankets, was closer to the kitchen than the living room, proof positive that he’d been sneaking snacks all the way up until everyone had drifted off to sleep.

There’d been a slight flash of panic for just a second as Seokjin couldn’t find Jimin. He’d half convinced himself that Jimin had bailed at some point during the night. Seokjin been doing his best to steadily coach Jimin away from what seemed to be the younger man’s instinct to just run whenever things got hard, or rough, or even just emotional. But Seokjin had gone to bed earlier than the rest of them, and he hadn’t known what he’d be waking up to.

He’d caught sight of Jimin, curled up near the front door, just before Seokjin slipped out onto the patio with the morning light. He couldn’t begin to guess how Jimin had ended up so close to the front door, away from the others, but Seokjin understood Jimin enough to know the why.

Seokjin had read a bit on the patio for a while, soaking in the warm morning sun, and then the apartment had come alive.

“They’re just playing around,” Namjoon called back to him. “Trust me, you’ll know when they’re fighting for real.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “I’m not worried about if they’re playing or not. I’m worried about the fact that my brother is starting to turn blue.”

Taehyung must have heard his words, because his arm unhooked from around Jungkook’s neck and he shouted, “Sorry!”

With a huge grin on his face, Namjoon asked, “How’s breakfast going? You want some help?”

In a teasing way, Seokjin turned to Yoongi and said, “Namjoon wants to know if he can come help us.”

Head cocked, Yoongi wondered, “Haven’t you ever noticed that he doesn’t even know how to turn the stove on? You really want him back here? With sharp knives and fire?”

Seokjin swung back to Namjoon. “I think we have this covered. Get hands and faces washed, okay? I think we’ll be finished in about fifteen minutes.” And something told Seokjin it would take that long to get everyone cleaned up.

Breakfast, as usual, was nothing spectacular. Breakfast was the kind of meal that Seokjin found the most difficult, and never really had the right time to practice, and always felt inadequate with. But the upside of having Bangtan in his house right now was that most of them would eat anything. Plus, Yoongi was proving to be more capable in the kitchen than Seokjin had ever suspected.

The sound of Namjoon’s phone cut through the living room then, and it was like flipping a switch with the others. They settled down right away, and Yoongi came around from the kitchen to stand next to Seokjin.

Business. It was definitely business coming their way. So when Namjoon gestured for Yoongi to follow him and the both of them left the apartment, Seokjin wasn’t surprised.

“I can help,” Jungkook said, picking himself up off the floor with only a little stumble. “Suga was helping you, right?”

Seokjin pointed out, “You were so busy bleeding testosterone, I’m surprised you noticed.”

With a muddled look on his face, Jungkook said, “I think that’s an insult, but with you, sometimes I’m not always sure.”

Seokjin reached out and thumbed over the roughness of Jungkook’s eyebrows. “You want a repeat of this?”

“Hey, hey,” Jungkook said defensively. “not everyone is born an amazing cook like you.”

With a grin, Seokjin pointed out, “I never burned a part of my face off.”

“It grew back!”

“Technically.” Seokjin caught Jungkook’s wrist and said, “You can help with the setup. Everything is mostly done cooking, but I need you to help me put everything out and in the right place before the hyenas descend.”

Namjoon and Yoongi weren’t back by the time breakfast officially started. And though no one made a comment about it, it was a noticeable, unspoken question lingering in the room.

Seokjin tried to fill the absence with prying questions into Jungkook’s classes, Hoseok and Taehyung’s anniversary, and Jimin’s post-accident recovery.

“Don’t think I’m forgetting about that,” Seokjin pointed out, looking directly at Jimin’s sleeve. The other male had worn a jacket or long sleeves every time Seokjin had seen him since the accident, but Seokjin was hardly going to let the wound go. Jimin was a person who had the kind of lucky that would land him with an infection.

“It’s fine,” Jimin said stubbornly.

“It was an open wound that was nearly deep enough it needed stitches.” Seokjin gave Jimin a firm look that dared him to challenge the face. “Come to my clinic later today or tomorrow, before I leave for the conference. I’ll look it over and redress it.”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped opened. “You’re still going?”

Taehyung nodded quickly. “You’re not serious, right?”

Shortly, with some anger, Jimin said, “Of course he’s still going. Someone only tried to kill him. That’s not enough to deter someone like Jin.”

“Maybe,” Seokjin said succinctly, looking from face to face, “if someone had claimed responsibility for this, or we knew the motive, I’d be more content to sit on my hands at home. But we don’t know anything. There is no evidence out there to support any of the wild theories that I’m sure all of you are entertaining. So I’m not going to let my life be interrupted. I’m not going to stop everything out of fear. I’m done being afraid.”

Jungkook declared, “I’m going with you.”

Quickly Seokjin said back, “You have school.”

Jungkook sputtered, “School!”

Seokjin couldn’t help looking directly across the table to Jimin. His mind went right back to when Jimin had asked Seokjin to take him with him to the medical conference. When he’d asked it had been about needing a legitimate reason to poke his nose around in someone else’s territory. Now if Seokjin took him along, he assumed it would be more about watching his back.

And if that was the case … maybe Seokjin could be justified in prompting such a thing from Namjoon.

It wouldn’t just be lying to give Jimin an opening. It wouldn’t be being dishonest.

Seokjin wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t living in fear. But having someone he trusted to watch his back? He supposed that was something different. Having the company of someone he liked, which would also probably ease Namjoon’s anxiety in a way, wasn’t a burden.

Namjoon and Yoongi didn’t come back after the meal was over, either.

Seokjin left to take a shower before they reappeared, leaving the dishes to the others, and with worry creeping under his skin. What had the call been about? How important had it been that Namjoon had just up and left and been gone for so long?

Namjoon was back, however, by the time Seokjin was out of the shower, dressed, and ready to leave for work. Yoongi wasn’t, however, and both Jimin and Hoseok had left. Only Jungkook was lingering in the living room.

And when Seokjin asked him where the others were, that was when he revealed, “Taehyung’s outside talking with some of the guys watching the apartment.”

Fastening his watch onto his wrist, Seokjin asked, “What’s going on?” He could see Namjoon in the kitchen, scrounging up a bit of leftovers that had been placed in the refrigerator. “Namjoon?”

Namjoon told Jungkook, “Get Taehyung to take you to school. Then report back to him when you get out.”

“Namjoon,” Seokjin said flatly.

Jungkook squeezed Seokjin’s arm as he drifted by, and mumbled, “Bye, Jin.”

“Let’s sit down for a second, okay?” Namjoon suggested, gesturing to the sofa Jungkook had vacated.

Seokjin had little patience for either comfort or procrastination, so he said, “Just tell me what’s going on. What was that phone call you got? You know I can take it.”

Namjoon gave him a look of appreciation, some a little hot in a way that made Seokjin want to lean over and kiss him.

“With all of us here last night,” Namjoon explained, “Suho had his men on the hospital—on the guy who attacked you and where he’s being treated.”

“The guy in a coma,” Seokjin said slowly.

Namjoon sighed. “He’s not in a coma anymore. He woke up around four this morning.”

A million thoughts were racing through Seokjin’s mind. “Who is he? Who sent him to hurt me? Is he talking to anyone? To the police? What’s going on with him? Do you know anything?” Seokjin just wanted to know why. Because the attack had been personal. The man had known who he was, and Seokjin wanted to know the motivator. Why. He just wanted to know why.

“Jin, Jin.” Namjoon held up a hand.

“Sorry,” Seokjin breathed out.

“Suho spent the entire morning trying to get to the guy. He was trying everything he could to get someone on the inside, but the police have known from the start that something is going on with this guy, and they kept blocking every attempt Suho made. There just wasn’t an opening to slip someone in for questioning. The guy was too heavily guarded.”

Seokjin wasn’t sure as he asked, “So what’s happening now? What’s his prognosis? I hit him as hard as I could in the head with that bat. He might not even know who he is.”

A little pridefully, Namjoon said, “You rattled his brains, that’s for sure. Suho couldn’t get anyone actually into the room, but his guys were able to snag his chart.”

“And?” Seokjin prompted.

“And it doesn’t matter,” Namjoon breathed out. “He’s dead now. Has been for over two hours.”

“Dead?” Seokjin snapped out, sharper than he’d meant to. “He’s what?”

“Dead,” Namjoon said flatly, clearly not happy about the turn of events.

Seokjin’s mind was whirling a little, and all he could come up with was, “Suho’s men killed him?” Maybe that was why Namjoon was so upset. Namjoon likely wanted to be the one to do it, and it seemed like someone had stolen that opportunity from him. Seokjin couldn’t say he was heartbroken over the idea of Namjoon not having someone to kill.

Namjoon shook his head, which just convinced Seokjin even more.

“What happened?” He felt like that was the only question he was asking over and over.

Like it drove him crazy to admit, Namjoon finally said, “Suho doesn’t know what happened. No one knows. One second that guy was there in that hospital room, talking and not showing any severe brain damage. I guess the doctors started putting him through some tests, but he was coming out pretty well on all of them. He could definitely give us the answers were wanted. And then Suho said around seven this morning the call went out for police to come down to the hospital and question the guy. He was dead half an hour after that.”

Seokjin said soberly, “On purpose, right?”

“That’s what Suho and I think,” Namjoon admitted. “The second this guy came through his coma and knew his name and had all his memories, he was dead. We just thought he’d be dead by our hand, and not whoever sent him.”

“Someone was too afraid he’d fold.” Seokjin knew he was right on that. “Someone was afraid he’d tell us everything.”

Namjoon’s fingers curled into fists. “Damnit, Jin. This guy slipped right through our fingers. We had him. He was awake and talking. He could have told us everything we needed to know about why this happened.”

Seokjin suspected it was a simple as someone taking a swing at Namjoon. That probably wasn’t what Namjoon wanted to hear, but it made the most sense. It was what Seokjin was settling on. He’d always known that he’d be a target because of Namjoon. He’d always known there’d be a day when someone would try and poke at Namjoon using him.

He’d just always thought someone would start a little smaller, and not come out swinging as hard as Seokjin had just experienced.

“So what do you do now?”

“Dig deep,” Namjoon sighed. “And we’re going to start with the hospital. Our people couldn’t get into the room, but someone else did. I want to know how. I want to see any security footage I can get my hands on. And I refuse to be three steps behind someone who’s already a mile ahead.”

Seokjin cupped the side of Namjoon’s face with a cool palm and said, “You’re very good at digging your heels in when it’s something business related. I think you’re going to find the answers that you want. I trust you to find them.”

“You trust me to keep you safe,” Namjoon correct. “I’m not going to fail you again on that.”

Seokjin used his hand to guide Namjoon into a chaste kiss. “You didn’t fail me the first time.”

“Then why does it feel like it?” Namjoon asked in a subdued way.

Seokjin gave a supportive smile and kissed his mouth once more. “Because of the size of your heart, Namjoon. That’s why you feel responsible. Because of your heart. And that’s why I love you.”

The clenching that Namjoon’s fingers had been bound up in, released.

Seokjin let his own fingers catch Namjoon’s in order to squeeze tightly. Then he said, “Are you going to have a meltdown when I leave on Thursday for my conference?”

Seokjin could tell, from the bare and blatant emotions on Namjoon’s face, that he certainly wanted to. But instead, showing some reserve and self-control Namjoon asked, “If I begged you not to go, you’d go anyway, wouldn’t you?”

He knew he’d surprised Namjoon when he said, “If you begged, truly begged me not to go, I wouldn’t. Because I love you more than I want to go to this conference. And I would never do anything that would cause you severe emotional distress. But I would hope you wouldn’t ask me not to go, because you know how long I’ve been looking forward to going to this conference. I wasn’t well enough to go the last time it was offered.”

He’d been in the hospital then, with busted ribs from Jungkook desperately trying to save his life.

“I don’t want you to go,” Namjoon admitted. “But I won’t ask you not to.” He raked fingers through his hair worriedly. “No one else from the clinic is going either, right? Not Jonghyun? I like Jonghyun.”

Seokjin nearly burst out laughing. “You only like Jonghyun because he took a swing at a patient once.”

“Justifiably so!” Namjoon defended. “You told me that guy was trying to break into the part of the clinic where you keep the heavy-duty medication.”

Seokjin agreed, “Specifically the pain medication. He was definitely hooked, and he was trying to fake being ill to get at the medication. When I said no, he—”

“He shoved you into a wall,” Namjoon barked out. “That’s what you told me. He shoved you into a wall, gabbed your keycard, and tried to get into the meds. So when the guy attempted to get past Jonghyun, he decked him. I would have paid anything to be there.”

Seokjin was rather glad he hadn’t been. Namjoon would probably have been the one taking the swing then.

“No,” Seokjin finally answered him. “I wanted to take Moonbin with me, but it just never ended up working out. But you know I won’t be there alone. A hundred people at the minimum are going to be at this conference, and I’m meeting up with some old friends.”

He could take Jimin, he told himself again. He could take Jimin and ease Namjoon’s worries. But if he did, he knew Jimin would go getting into trouble. And if that happened, and Seokjin didn’t tell Namjoon exactly what he planned to do from the start …it was only going to cause trouble.

“Can your brother miss a couple days of school?” Namjoon broke in with. “I know you’re a stickler for him going, but I’d feel so much better if I knew someone was there with you who could fend off any potential trouble.”

Jungkook was not missing school. And if Namjoon hadn’t suggested Hoseok or Taehyung or Yoongi, it meant they were busy doing something else.

Maybe … maybe Jimin could be persuaded not to go off on his own and look for trouble. Maybe he’d be willing to make that kind of promise to Seokjin.

“I could take Jimin.” The words were out of his mouth before he’d really realized it.

Namjoon didn’t seem convinced. “You want to put yourself in a car with Jimin all the way there, spend two days with him, and then drive all the way back? Are you sure? You’re liable to throw him from the car while you’re driving, with the rate the two of you can get on.”

“We’re friends,” Seokjin made sure to say. “We don’t always get along perfectly, but at the end of the day, we’re friends. And more than that, both of us trust him. Both of us know he’ll stand between me and any kind of threat at a moment’s notice.”

That, naturally, had a lot to do with the feelings Jimin still harbored for him. But all of that aside, Seokjin was confident that their friendship was real, and based on them genuinely liking each other, even if they were so radically different.

“You think Jimin would go for it?” Namjoon asked.

Seokjin laughed a little nervously. “Yeah. I don’t think he’ll protest.”

After just a moment’s hesitation, Namjoon gave a nod. “Okay. I’ll run it by Jimin today. If he’s okay with it, he’ll go with you.”

“Unless you want to,” Seokjin said, knowing it was an impossible thing to ask. He got to his feet and headed to his bag that was waiting by the front door. He was still on track to make it to work on time. “I’ll gladly have you for a mini vacation.”

“I wish,” Namjoon said, and there was enough honesty in his voice for Seokjin to really believe him. “I’d go in a second if I could. You know I would. But …”

Seokjin knew it wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t help asking, “Is there any chance we’re ever going to get to take that vacation we planned? Somewhere nice, remember? Like Europe, or America.”

“Mmm,” Namjoon said dramatically. “A Californian beach. Me and you in swimsuits. Good drinks.”

Seokjin rather had his heart set on seeing the Eiffel Tower, or the Colosseum in Rome, or anywhere in Spain, frankly. But if they could just manage to actually go on vacation, Seokjin wouldn’t be picky.

They’d been trying to find a way to get away since Seokjin had been released from the hospital all those months ago. They’d made promises to themselves that they were actually going to go. But Namjoon made it seem like he’d never have time for a vacation, and Seokjin needed him to set things in stone, so he could figure out finding a way to fill his spot at the clinic for at least a week.

“It would be nice,” Seokjin said gently, “to spend all my time with you, relaxing, enjoying your company, and not having to worry about anything else. I’m not holding my breath at this point, but it would be very nice.”

Hurt crawled its way across Namjoon’s face, and he said, “I know you want to go, but surely you can see this isn’t the time.”

“No,” Seokjin agreed, resolved. “So I’m off to work, okay? Be safe.”

Namjoon got to his own feet. “I can drive you. It wouldn’t be a bother.”

“I think you have enough on your plate this morning,” Seokjin said slinging his bag over his shoulder and pulling the door open. He wasn’t surprised at all to see the amount of men lingering around outside. They’d probably follow him the whole way to work, and hang out there for some time.

Namjoon’s paranoia was bound to die down eventually, so for the moment, Seokjin simply pretended like thy didn’t exist. They certainly weren’t getting in his way, and they were all there by choice.

“Jin,” Namjoon called after him.

“I don’t want to be late!” Seokjin replied. Then, keys in hand, he stepped down the stairs leading to the first floor, and walked the short distance to his car.

Unlike the previous day where Seokjin’s clinic had been stuffed to the brim with Namjoon’s men, it wasn’t the case when he arrived twenty-five minutes later. There was just the normal cluster of walk-ins waiting, patients queued up, and staff greeting him warmly.

“You look unhappy,” Jonghyun commented when he swung by Seokjin’s office. Seokjin had only gone back there for a second to put his bag away, shrug on his doctor’s white coat, and check his mail. “You have a fight with your boyfriend this morning?”

“No,” Seokjin said. Because it hadn’t been a fight. “Actually, it was a good morning. I had breakfast with Jungkook and some of our friends.”

“Friends,” Jonghyun said knowingly.

“I don’t know why I bother with you at all,” Seokjin sighed out.

Jonghyun bounced a little in his place, hands deep in the pockets of his coat. “Because face it, I’ve been with you so long I’m practically the only person who really knows you. And you’d better trust me before you trust anyone else.”

Seokjin looked up from his computer after clicking open an email. He told Jonghyun honestly, “I trust you professionally and personally. You’ve gone through a lot with me from the start with this clinic, and that’s why I’ve told you more about what’s going on personally in my life, than anyone else not associated.”

In an amused way, Jonghyun shook his head slowly. “Who’d have thought such a straightedge doctor like you would fall in with some gang hoodlums.”

“Hey, hey,” Seokjin told him. “Not just any hoodlum, okay?”

Jonghyun burst out laughing. “You’re right. Head hoodlum. I concede.”

It was kind of amazing how easy Jonghyun had brushed away the tension from the past few days. It was probably a combination of Jonghyun and being at work, but Seokjin wasn’t going to argue the point.

“Working a full shift today?” Jonghyun asked curiously. “We can cover another half shift if you want. It’s no big deal. We’ve got that extra intern until September, remember?”

Seokjin assured, following after Jonghyun and closing his office door behind him, “I’m back to working full shifts. And we should talk about Thursday. You know I’m leaving for that conference. You’ve got everything covered here, right? You’ll be okay for those days?”

In an astonished way, Jonghyun commented, “It sounds like you think we’re going to burn the place to the ground if you’re not here to babysit. Jin. Seriously. We’re going to be just fine. Stop worrying.”

Seokjin scoffed, “That’s practically my natural state.”

“I know,” Jonghyun teased. “That’s why you’re always such an easy mark. You gotta work on that.”

It was Seokjin’s turn to laugh then, and it was a good way to start his shift.

That good feeling lasted from the walk at the back of the clinic, to the front. Though it wasn’t as if that good feeling was stamped out, it was just replaced with concern.

Because from the front, emanating from the waiting room, Seokjin could hear a young baby screaming blood murder.

“Been doing that for a couple of minutes,” Jonghyun said knowingly. “Since the mom came in. Guess who she’s got the appointment with, lucky boy.”

Seokjin didn’t take the bait, especially since the idea of having a wailing baby in an examination room wasn’t exactly a turn-off for him, professionally. He rather liked children, and he’d been around his fair share of babies to know when a baby was screaming in pain, or in hunger, or because of a soiled diaper.

This, Seokjin could identify, was just a scream of the sake of it. For attention. And unfortunately, some babies simply did that.

Seokjin peeked around the corner, and without having to look at his chart, he told Jonghyun, “That’s Min Nakyoung. And her daughter, Yebin.” The baby was one of many Seokjin had delivered during the time period his clinic had been open. And Yebin had been one of the very last to be born at the old location.

Seokjin had nearly forgotten that he was due to see the baby in for her half year check-up, but only because most of his underaged patients were being transferred into Hongbin’s care. He was the clinic’s pediatrician, after all, and not only had he studied medicine specific to children, but he’d undergone a lot of specialized training to make himself more personable and likable to children. Seokjin thought he was pretty likable period, but Hongbin knew the best tricks to settle children down, and Seokjin preferred older patients in all truthfulness. He liked the older ones who were better able to express what was going on with their bodies, and give him better clues to solve problems at hand.

Still, a lingering number of parents of children, particularly the ones Seokjin had delivered, were clinging to him as their medical practitioner. Seokjin was okay with that, too. He had a bond with many of the children, and a lot of them were starting to get just old enough to recognize him on visits.

“Sounds like the kid is beyond not happy,” Jonghyun said with a wince, rubbing at an ear.

The baby did sound upset, but Seokjin was willing to be his clinic that wasn’t he scream of a baby in need. “She was a hard delivery,” Seokjin recalled, thinking out loud more than anything else. But when Jonghyun looked interested, Seokjin said, “The baby was breech.”

Jonghyun went white, and Seokjin looked more fondly out at the red-faced baby in the waiting room. A bereft mother who looked dangerously close to tears herself was trying to wrangle the tiny little fists flying in all directions.

“I was trying to get her turned,” Seokjin said, “but the baby’s heartrate was dropping, the mother’s blood pressure was off the charts, and I thought for one second …”

He’d thought it wasn’t going to turn out well. He’d thought the worst, even, if only for a few seconds. Everything that could go wrong was. The mother had started hemorrhaging and Seokjin had been truly fearful that he’d lose his first baby or mother. Patient. He was scared he’d lose his first patient at his personal clinic, period.

“Yunho helped me save her life,” Seokjin said to Jonghyun. “He helped me save both their lives.”

They’d worked together to save two lives that day, and by the skin of their teeth. The clinic back then hadn’t been equipped for labor experiencing severe complications. But Yunho had coached Seokjin through the moment of high tension, and kept him steady, and gotten the hemorrhaging under control so Seokjin could focus on saving the baby.

Unexpectedly, Jonghyun confessed, “I miss Yunho.”

A smile split its way onto Seokjin’s face. They all missed Yunho, even Jonghyun who didn’t talk about him much. Yunho had been a cornerstone for getting the clinic running. He’s been a founding member, and had suffered through the worst of the clinic’s early troubles. And though letting Yunho go had been a little rough, Seokjin was glad he was off making his dreams come true

“He’s coming for a visit in a couple of months,” Seokjin said knowingly. “Want to make sure you’re on the schedule when that happens?”

Gruffly, but without any real bite, Jonghyun said, “I’m always on the schedule.”

Seokjin told him, “I’ll make sure.”

They were able to delay getting into the rush of the clinic for just a few more minutes until Jonghyun said, “Okay, seriously, that baby is going to start running our patients off at this point. Get her in a room and find out why she’s screaming like that, okay?”

“Can’t take a little screaming?” Seokjin joked with Jonghyun. “How are you and Kibum ever going to handle one of your own?”

“Ha!” Jonghyun punctuated. “By not having one, thank you very much. I want to have a career, and nice things, and peace and quiet. That’s what I want, not one of those.”

Seokjin wasn’t so sure Jonghyun would always feel that way, but for the moment, he said, “You’re practically already a father with how much you baby this clinic.”

“You’re one to talk!” Jonghyun called after him as Seokjin signaled to a nurse to have the mother and baby brought into an examination room.

“That’s an angry cry,” Hongbin said, drifting by.

Seokjin had been sure, too, but it was nice to have an agreeing second opinion. He nodded, and said, “Not a hungry or sleepy one. Not a soiled diaper one. Definitely just an angry one.”

Hongbin pursed his mouth into a thin line and took a peek at the mother. “I don’t envy her.”

Seokjin kind of did. Not the screaming baby part, of course. But he was anxious to have his own family one day, and even if it meant a screaming baby, he’d be happy.

“I’ll see if I can settle the both of them down,” Seokjin said, and Hongbin gave an easy shrug.

After the nurse had been in to see the baby, and gotten all her numbers down, Seokjin himself slipped into the room.

“She was a lot quieter the last time I saw her,” Seokjin said loudly over the screams when they were all settled down into the room. He tried to give the mother a comforting smile, but he got nothing in return.

“She’s never been quiet,” the baby’s mother argued back, a little contentious in her tone. “She’s never quiet. Never.”

Seokjin trusted his nurses and their assessments, but he could help sliding his stool over to the pair of them to look the baby over.

“She cries all day,” the mother said. “She cries all night. She cries if I hold her. She cries if I put her down.”

Seokjin checked the baby’s eyes, her hearing, and listened to her heartbeat. It was all normal, and so the only thing Seokjin could say to the mother was, “Some babies are just like this. There’s nothing wrong with her, I promise. She’s just a crier.”

Balancing the baby on her knee, the woman palmed at her eyes and said, “It wasn’t supposed to be this hard.”

Seokjin could see the baby tipping a little, so with permission from the mother, he settled the little girl against his chest. She fought, as he expected, for a few seconds. She did her best to punch and kick at him with ferocity that promised she’d be hell on wheels the moment she got mobility. But eventually, also as expected, as he rubbed her back and rocked from side to side, she began to settle.

The baby wasn’t quiet, by any means, and she was doing her best to pinch at him like a pro, but her breathing was settling, and Seokjin took it as a win.

“I’m a terrible mother,” the woman stated.

“You’re not,” Seokjin said back right away, palming down the hair on the baby’s head. There was a lilac ribbon threaded in that was lovely. “This is your first, Mrs. Min. Babies are hard work. Despite everyone having an opinion on what to do with them, there’s no instructional manual. It’s going to be hard, and for a while too. But the beginning is always the hardest. You’re going to get through this. And then you won’t even remember this point of her life, unless you’re bringing it up in front of a boyfriend to embarrass her.”

That got a crack of a smile from the woman.

Seokjin felt the baby fuss, another tantrum on the horizon, so he stood and began circling the room. All the while he said, “You’re not doing anything wrong. Look at her. Look at Yebin. She’s well fed—her coloring is great. She’s healthy, and right at the point of development she’s supposed to be at. And yes, she’s being a terror for you, but it only feels so terrible because you’re obviously sleep deprived. And you probably haven’t had any time for yourself since she was born. So give yourself a break.”

Her face falling into her hands, Seokjin felt like he must have said something wrong, because the woman mumbled out, “I hate that you make it look so easy, Doctor Kim.”

“Easy?” Seokjin laughed out, startling the baby a little. “I’ve just got more experience than you do. That’s all. You’ll get good, too. There’s a lot of support out there for you. Let me get you set up with the kind that I think you might need right now.” There were programs out there, Seokjin recanted off the top of his head. There were lots of programs that would help a struggling mother find her feet.

In a broken way, the woman said plainly, “I don’t want to do this without him. I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want her anymore.”

Seokjin stilled.

“Mrs. M—”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” she pressed. “He wasn’t supposed to just … to just …”

Die. Her husband had died. Seokjin hadn’t found out about the accident that had claimed his life until after Yebin had been born. Not until the baby’s one-month checkup, when the cousin of the mother had shown up with the baby, and explained the whole situation.

In a lot of ways, Seokjin understood her lack of strength. She’d decided to start a family with someone, and that someone had passed away tragically. So she was left alone, with a huge responsibility, and without that necessary support.

But the words she’d said … specifically.

“Mrs. Min,” Seokjin said, almost feeling like he wanted to wrap around the baby in response, “you need to be very careful with what you say to me.” He was trying desperately hard not to make it sound like a threat. “You can’t give the indication to me that you might—”

“Hurt her?” the woman demanded, slamming up to her feet. It was the kind of fire from a mother that Seokjin needed to see to feel assured.

“I’m a mandated reporter,” he told her kindly, and was prepared to hand the baby over at any time to the authorities, his personal feelings aside. “That means if I suspect anything, I have to report it.”

The woman scoffed. “I’m not going to hurt her. I love her. I just …”

She just didn’t want the baby anymore.

Seokjin shifted the baby from his chest to his side and went directly to a side cabinet that had pamphlets in it. “Here,” he said, handing a few over to her. “I want you to take these and read them. I mean it when I say there’s a lot of support out there or you. And I think we should make an appointment just for you to see me.”

She looked uncertain. “Why?”

“Because you sound like you might still be experiencing some extreme post-partum, and I may be able to help you.”

She reached for the baby then, and Seokjin let her go. The baby wasn’t his, he reminded himself. And the mother wasn’t unfit. Though it wasn’t unexpected that the baby started wailing again the moment she was out of Seokjin’s arms and back into her mother’s.

“Stop by the front desk,” Seokjin urged as the mother was gathering her things up. “Make a follow-up appointment for yourself. Come back and see me as soon as you can.”

Seokjin wasn’t offended as she blew out of the room like a hurricane, dragging her screaming baby with her.

He let out a deep sigh and watched her go. Some days were harder than others, and this was feeling like one of them.

“Everything okay in here?” Raina asked, poking her head in as she strolled by. She saw the expression on his face and held in the doorway. “Doctor Kim?”

“Fine, fine,” Seokjin insisted. Not all days could be the best. And as long as he was assured that no one was in any danger, he could live with just being unsettled. “How’s your day going?” He drifted over to make small-talk, and tried to block out the unease of the check-up.  He’d certainly had far worse visits in the past, and he had much more important things to focus on for the future.

“Not bad. Say, a couple of us were thinking of going out for lunch. We’ve got an extra nurse on shift today, so we can cluster the breaks up a little more. Want to come with us to try out the new place across the street?”

Seokjin fell into step with her. “The Indian place?”

“Curry,” Raina said happy.

“Sounds good,” Seokjin replied, and went off to the front to take another patient.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Namjoon was hovering. He was hovering and fussing, and he was driving Seokjin up the wall.

“Are you sure you packed the right stuff?” Namjoon asked, nudging at Seokjin’s bag where it was set on the bed in their bedroom. It was a travel suitcase, meant to be carry-on sized if he was flying, and it was zipped open to reveal its contents to Namjoon.

Seokjin hadn’t been the one to unzip it, naturally.

Across the room, Seokjin said patiently, “I’m sure I packed the right things.” He resisted reminding Namjoon that the suitcase was open for his inspection, if he so wanted.

Currently, however, Seokjin was busy portioning his medication out carefully into travel boxes. In the months since he’d suffered heart failure, crouched in a convenience store while it was being shot up, he’d cycled through two different medications, and been put on an entirely new one. The only part that was of any significance to Seokjin was remembering the new combination of pills shifting to new time periods during the day.

Namjoon’s fretting wasn’t helping, either.

“I know it’s hot,” Namjoon said, glancing from the suitcase to Seokjin, “but I think you should take a jacket. You’re going to be in a conference hall, right? The air will be on. It’ll be cold.”

Kindly, Seokjin pointed out, “The conference is informal, but I guarantee you everyone will be dressed to impress. I’ll be wearing a suit jacket. I won’t be cold.”

“But what if you are?”

Seokjin set down a bottle of his medication and told Namjoon, “You’re going to give yourself a stroke. I can practically see how high your blood pressure is from here.”

Namjoon glared a little. “I’m just saying, maybe you’ve overlooked something. How many pairs of underwear did you bring?”

Abandoning his task of portioning out his medication completely, Seokjin rounded the bed to where Namjoon was standing. He laid his arms languidly up on board, firm shoulders, and said, “Aside from my medication and my laptop, there’s nothing that I could forget at home, that I couldn’t replace at the conference. Namjoon, stop worrying.”

“When it comes to you,” Namjoon breathed out, his fingers gripping at Seokjin’s waist, “I will always worry.”

A grin on his face, Seokjin leaned forward for an obvious kiss, and Namjoon met him more than halfway.

“Worry if you have to,” Seokjin allowed, feeling Namjoon’s fingers creep under his shirt. “But don’t hover.”

“This is hardly hovering,” Namjoon said, sneaking in another kiss.

Then his palm was flat against the smooth skin at Seokjin’s back, and Namjoon was pulling Seokjin into a warmer, definitely intent filled kiss.

It wasn’t long then, naturally, before Seokjin was hitting the mattress, and Namjoon was coming after him. A warm wet mouth was still on Seokjin’s for a moment more, before it was trailing down his neck, and Namjoon’s hands were doing their best to ruck up Seokjin’s shirt.

“You’re not so clever,” Seokjin warned, wrapping his arms around the back of Namjoon’s neck in an attempt to slow the building friction. “I know what you’re doing.”

Namjoon laughed in between kisses to Seokjin’s skin, “Worshiping my boyfriend? Whom I love more than anything else in this world?”

Seokjin’s head craned back and he could see the clock flashing eleven after six in the morning. Time was running short, and he was set to leave at any moment. So as much as he wanted to lay in bed with Namjoon and make out, and a lot more than that, he couldn’t let himself get distracted. He couldn’t let Namjoon get away with what he clearly thought he was going to.

Squirming a little Seokjin pushed at Namjoon and ordered, “Off. I’m leaving now.”

Namjoon groaned in disappointment and flopped to the side.

He made such an adorable sight and Seokjin couldn’t help rolling into his side affectionately. He put his hand on Namjoon’s check and leaned up for a parting kiss to Namjoon’s stubble covered jaw.

“I’ve got to go,” Seokjin said. “But I’m only going to be gone two days, and you will survive without me. I mean, I don’t know who’s going to feed you, or pick up after you, or get you to bed at a decent time, or make sure you have clean clothes, or … oh god, you might die without me here.”

Namjoon smiled at him with such love and such warmth that Seokjin felt it like a punch to the gut.

“You do too much for me,” the other man said indulgingly, but with heavy gratitude. “You take care of me in a way that I never thought someone would ever want to—in a way that I never thought I deserved. But you do it, and you make me feel worthy of it.”

“You are worthy,” Seokjin insisted. “But seriously, promise me you’re not going to just eat out every night. I’ll come back and you’ll be fifteen pounds heavier, and your cholesterol levels will have shot up.”

With a snort of disbelieve, Namjoon asked, “You’d rather I go into your kitchen and try and cook something? You shouldn’t be expecting to come home to much of a kitchen if that’s the case.”

Indulgingly, Seokjin said, “You’re a better cook than you let on, you’re a better cook than you want people to think you are. You’re fully capable of cooking some simple dishes, if you give yourself the right incentive and time to do it. You just need to have confidence in yourself.”

“I have confidence,” Namjoon argued as Seokjin got up and began placing the last of his items into the suitcase. “I have confidence that I’ll give myself food poisoning the second you leave and spend the next few days wallowing in death while you’re living it up at your conference.”

Seokjin assured him, “Food poisoning typically doesn’t kill.”

“That’s so reassuring,” Namjoon said.

Zipping his suitcase closed, Seokjin said, “Just spend the next couple of days looking after yourself? You spend all this time worrying about me, but have you stopped to consider that I’ll be worried about you, too? I know who you are, Kim Namjoon. I know the things you do and the impact of them. But I also know the little stuff, like how you forget to eat sometimes, and how you like to overthink things, and how you can stay up all night if you think there’s even a hint of trouble about to happen.”

Namjoon said up. “Clearly the only solution to this is for you to stay home.”

Seokjin hoisted his suitcase up. “Nice try.”

He headed out into the front of the apartment then, and he could hear Namjoon following after him.

“Two days,” Seokjin called over his shoulder. “Stop acting like you’re a duckling and you have to follow after me.”

He’d thought he’d said those words with humor and levity, but then Namjoon was saying back to him, “I’m more worried about who else might be following you.”

The clock was inching ever closer to six-thirty, and that was the absolute latest Seokjin could leave to keep to his schedule. But time seemed to fall away then, with Namjoon’s words and the look on his face.

“Have you stopped to consider,” Seokjin said, “that I’m only in danger as long as I’m here?”

He wasn’t expecting Namjoon to say back to him darkly, “Of course I have. I spend every waking moment thinking about how you’re only in danger because of me, and because you stand at my side. And if I thought for one second you’d go, I’d get you as far from my side as possible.”

Standing his ground, Seokjin said plainly, “Good luck with that. And if you even think about trying at any point in the future, I’ll come down on you so hard I’ll make your grandmother’s spirit proud of me.”

“Oh, she’s so proud already,” Namjoon said a bit numbly, but with honestly. “You know that.”

Seokjin really liked to think so. Namjoon’s grandmother had told him once that if he did anything to hurt Namjoon, or didn’t treat him and his heart like he deserved, she’d gut him. Of course she hadn’t been so blunt in her words, but she hadn’t been coy, either. Seokjin had gotten the message and loved her for it.

“We’ve talked about this before,” Seokjin said. “This is my risk to take. It’s my choice to make. So if I want to be with you, and you want me with you, just accept it.”

Namjoon wasted no time saying, “I always want you with me. That’s the problem.”

Nodding toward the door, Seokjin offered, “Going out of town is a good thing for me right now. It’ll give you a chance to concentrate on your work and what needs to be done. And we’ll kind of be testing the waters. It’ll be nice to know if me leaving your side flushes anyone out.”

The initial shock of the man who’d attacked him dying in the hospital had worn off. Murdered in the hospital, Seokjin corrected. And now he was only left with more questions than he’d ever had before.

The scariest thing, however, was knowing that they were dealing with someone not afraid to sacrifice others. That man in the hospital had been killed on the very chance that he might say something to wrong person, or have the wrong information worked out of him. Someone much higher than him hadn’t even wanted to take that chance, and that was frightening.

Seokjin still held to the notion that his had been someone making a statement, and it had been more for shock value than anything else. He didn’t think he had a bounty on his head. He just also knew Namjoon thought otherwise.

“And I’m not going alone,” Seokjin pointed out. He reached out to straighten the robe Namjoon wore. “Nothing is going to go wrong while I’m out of town. I’m just going to go to a conference that I’m sure you would find terribly boring, and then I’ll come home. But, and I mean but in the most impossible way, if something goes wrong—”

“Not helping my paranoia,” Namjoon interjected.

“Then,” Seokjin continued, “I feel sorry for the bastard who wants to come at me.”

That made Namjoon laugh, and in turn, Seokjin felt a rush of happiness in himself.

“Right?” he pressed Namjoon.

“Right,” Namjoon agreed, pulling Seokjin tight a tight hug.

Seokjin hadn’t been the one to tell Jimin that he’d been volunteered to go with Seokjin to his conference. Namjoon had handled all that, and Seokjin was thankful. Because inevitably, Jimin was going to ask why Seokjin had suggested him, especially after he’d admonished Jimin a way for the very thing days earlier.

In a lot of ways, Seokjin still felt like a hypocrite. He’d refused to be the reason that Jimin got his toe in the door concerning the territory he was heading into. He’d taken the higher ground when it had been brought up. But then for Namjoon, to comfort Namjoon, Seokjin had backtracked quickly.

He didn’t think there was any word but hypocrisy to describe what he’d done.

Seokjin tried to justify it to himself. He tried to say it was to calm Namjoon’s nerves, and his own, but really, at the root of it all, it had been bugging Seokjin that Jimin had asked something of him, and Seokjin had denied him.

Maybe this would make Namjoon feel better. But more important than that, Seokjin felt like he was doing something for Jimin—for someone who never asked for anything.

The more he thought about it, the more he was sure this was about Jimin, and no one else.

It was about the guilt he was still carrying around for Jimin and Jimin’s feelings for him. It was about Seokjin feeling like he was at fault for how everything had turned out with Jimin’s heart, whether that was rational or not.

“I may not like you going,” Namjoon said, and that was no great mystery. “But I trust Jimin. I know he’ll have your back. And anyone who tries to go at you, has to get through him first. Frankly, I do feel sorry for anyone trying to go through him, because he’ll rip them apart just for breathing in your direction.”

One day it was going to come out, Seokjin knew. One day, someone was going to spill the beans about Jimin’s feelings for Seokjin. Seokjin himself wasn’t going to be that person, but Jimin was so good at bottling his feelings up until they burst, so that was a possibility. And lately Taehyung had been looking knowingly between the two of them in a way that meant he’d certainly picked up on something. Taehyung had kept quiet, but Seokjin was certain he knew.

“I’ll be safe with him,” Seokjin assured Namjoon. “You know Jimin. You know he’ll see this through. And then when we both come back safe and sound, you can pat each other on the backs and tell each other how amazing you are.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes. “How about you both just come back? I don’t doubt he’ll keep you safe if someone makes a play for you. I’m not sure you won’t end up strangling him in his sleep at some point the first time he gets into a disagreement with you.”

“We’re not that bad anymore,” Seokjin said, and felt comfortable in the honesty of the statement.

He and Jimin were still radically different people. They still saw the world in drastically different ways. But they’d also bonded through their experiences. Jimin seemed to accept that Seokjin was always going to place kindness to others at the forefront of his actions. And Seokjin understood Jimin’s actions for what they were most of the time.

They were finally speaking the same language, Seokjin believed.

And they weren’t going to kill each other over the two-day conference.

“No,” Namjoon agreed. “You two are kind of a miracle story, as far as I’m concerned. I always knew Jimin would fall in line with your importance to me. I always knew he’d accept you. I just never thought you’d be friends. And I think that’s what you are now.”

“We are,” Seokjin insisted. “It’s not an easy friendship, or a typical one, but we’re definitely friends.”

Namjoon’s eyes drifted over to the clock across the room. Jimin was set to be there in less than fifteen minutes. Jimin always cut it close when it came to deadlines, but he was hardly ever late.

“Just promise me one thing,” Namjoon said.

“I’ll be careful,” Seokjin said.

Namjoon shook his head. “Not that. I know you will be. And for all my nervousness and paranoia, I know you’re going to be okay.”

“Then what?”

Seriousness set onto Namjoon’s face. “If someone does try and get at you, promise me you won’t let Jimin kill anyone.”

Fright rocked it way through Seokjin’s body. “What?” he demanded.

“We need answers,” Namjoon said, cold and unflinching. Seokjin hated when he was like this—like the head of Bangtan had to be. “If Jimin kills someone trying to hurt you, we don’t get those answers. Stop him, if you can. If it happens.”

So Namjoon could get his answers? So Namjoon could be the one to make the kill?

“Namjoon,” he said, disapprovingly.

“I need to know why,” Namjoon said harshly. “Is there a new player on the scene? Is someone just testing the waters? Is this a message? Is it nothing? I need answers, because without answers, I don’t know how to keep you safe.”

A heavy first pounded on the door, and then the sound of a key scraping into the lock followed.

Seokjin dropped a surprise a kiss onto Namjoon’s mouth and murmured, “I’ll call you when we get checked into the hotel, okay?”

Jimin was pushing open the door a few seconds later. He paused in the doorway, looking between the two of them oddly, then he asked, “We still going?”

Seokjin said promptly, “Of course I’m still going. I hope you aren’t backing out.”

Jimin made a sound between a laugh and a scoff before saying, “I never back out of anything.”

“I believe that,” Seokjin said as he breezed by, suitcase in hand.

“Neither do you,” Jimin called after him.

Seokjin was certain stern words were passing between Namjoon and Jimin as he loaded the car up with his luggage. He could guess what kind of conversation they were having, too. But none of that interested Seokjin. Instead he focused on Jimin’s bike parked next to his car, a duffle bag strapped to the back. By the time Seokjin placed it alongside his own in the trunk, both Jimin and Namjoon were heading down the apartment stairs and towards him.

Namjoon looked a little out of place, standing in their driveway in his robe, but when the sun caught his form from behind, Seokjin wanted nothing more than to go back to bed with him. He probably would have, if Namjoon had simply asked once more.

Namjoon must have known that too, by the look he was sending in Seokjin’s direction.

“These two days are just going to fly by,” Seokjin said, moving to Namjoon’s side and practically falling into his waiting embrace. Seokjin was always overly conscious of his displays of affection now, whenever Jimin was around, but Seokjin couldn’t help himself. He needed to go. He wanted to go. But he was still going to miss the man he loved all the same.

Namjoon, bless him, forced a smile to his face and insisted, “You’re going to kick so much ass at this conference. You’re gonna blow them out of the water.”

“I’m attending to learn something,” Seokjin replied with a grin, soaking in Namjoon’s firm body against his own, and the feeling of security it provided.  “I’m not teaching anything.”

Namjoon’s worn, calloused hands cupped his face tenderly, and he said, “That’s where you’re wrong. You’re always teaching someone something.”

Behind them, Jimin announced, “I learned how to hotwire these kinds of cars when I was twelve. I will do it, just so I can run the both of you over, unless you’re done making me so sick to my stomach.”

Namjoon laughed, but that was probably only because he couldn’t detect the hurt in Jimin’s voice that Seokjin could.

Seokjin let his mouth brush against Namjoon’s and said, “Watch after Jungkook, okay? That little brat probably thinks he can do whatever he wants while I’m gone. Don’t let him get into too much trouble. And take care of yourself, too. I want to come back to you just like I’m leaving you. No exceptions.”

With finality and acceptance, and a whole lot of love, Namjoon kissed him back once and urged, “Have a great time at your conference, okay? You’ve been looking forward to this for a while, and I want you to have the best time you could possibly have. And when you come home, I’ll be right here, waiting for you.”

In a lot of ways, even if it was just for a short period of time, it was their first real separation. Seokjin had been snatched out of his clinic a few times, and he and Namjoon had fought infrequently, but with enough ferocity to put days of distance between them. But this was the first time they were leaving each other during a high point in their relationship, and without there being any real friction instigating it.

It was a test, Seokjin surmised. They functioned very well as a unit, and they’d been perfectly fine on their own before they’d been in a relationship. But this was the first test to determine how well they did on their own, now that their relationship had changed them.

“I only need like ten seconds to do it,” Jimin added.

“Better go,” Seokjin said, squeezing Namjoon’s hand. “I don’t want you to get run over. I kind of like you.”

“I love you,” Namjoon said back fiercely, even after Seokjin had already started towards the car.

When Seokjin reached the driver’s side Jimin was there waiting for him. The shorter male offered, “You want me to drive? Then you can stick your head out the window and gaze lovingly at your boyfriend for as long as you possible can.”

“Or until you take a corner too sharply?” Seokjin challenged. He kept the keys to the car squarely in his palm and gestured at Jimin’s bike. “I’ll drive, thank you. I don’t want my car to look like your bike.”

“That was not my fault,” Jimin protested hotly.

“Nah,” Seokjin allowed facetiously. “It’s not like you didn’t already confess that you were rushing, and not really paying attention.”

Seokjin hadn’t commented on it before then, but the damage to Jimin’s bike was more substantial than he’d been lead to believe. It was definitely still drivable, but the cosmetic damage was terrible. It was going to cost a lot to fix, and it really highlighted how lucky Jimin was. With the way the bike looked, he could have been hurt much worse than the gash he’d had on his arm.

Jimin groaned “You’re going to lecture me the entire way there, aren’t you?”

Namjoon waved from behind them, offering up, “Have fun, Jimin. Expect those lectures while you’re there, and on the way home, too!”

“Murder me,” Jimin said as he rounded to the passenger side of the car.

“I love you,” Seokjin called faintly to Namjoon when Jimin was already in the car. He never wanted to hurt Jimin on purpose. He never wanted to flaunt his relationship with Namjoon. But he did love Namjoon, and he had to say it before he left. Just in case.

“I’ll keep Jungkook breathing while you’re away,” Namjoon promised. “How about you do the same with Jimin. I like him, you know. And he’s pretty handy.”

Seokjin popped open the door and told him, “No promises.”

Then he was in, the door was shut, and he didn’t let himself look back. He didn’t trust himself not to turn the car around if he did.

They made it twenty-five minutes out of Seoul before the conversation that Seokjin had known all along was coming, happened.

He’d been hoping, of course, that it wouldn’t happen until later that night, when they went out to dinner, and were relaxed He hadn’t wanted to have the conversation in the car, where there was no escape and the both of them were still trying to acclimate to each other.

Jimin absolutely had no patience, however, it seemed. So they were having it now.

Twenty-five minutes out of Seoul, and Jimin asked, “How did you convince Rap Mon to let me come with you?”

Seokjin pointedly kept his eyes on the road, but did respond, “I didn’t convince him of anything.”

“You said something to him,” Jimin pressed back. “You said enough to him that he came to me and asked me to come with you like I was doing him a favor. So did you get him on board with my plan? Did you—”

“Your plan,” Seokjin interrupted, “is stupid. I hope you see that. It’s not even a real plan, but if it was, a plan consisting of snooping around in another gang’s territory, it would be a stupid one.”

Jimin snorted in a defusing way. “The Triad? They’re a bunch of babies. What do you think they’d do to me if they caught me?”

This was why Seokjin hadn’t wanted to have the conversation in the car. Because he wasn’t sure his anger and Jimin’s bravado could exist in such a small space.

“They are not babies,” Seokjin said back with punctuated annoyance. “These are grown men, who are obviously smart enough and capable enough to organize themselves. You’re discounting them because their gangs aren’t very old. But Jimin, do you remember what happened the last time a gang discounted another?”

From the corner of his eye, he could see Jimin tense up, likely reliving bad memories.

Softer, Seokjin reminded, “You seem to think that Bangtan beat Infinite because you guys were smarter or stronger, or something like that. But you won because your opponent underestimated you. You won because you were creative and intuitive, and because Namjoon didn’t have the kind of ego that you seem to be carrying around.”

Jimin made to speak, but Seokjin interrupted again with a sharp sound from his throat.

“I should have died, Jimin. Do you get that?  I was in the lion’s den with people who wanted to dangle me as bait—who tried to do that, but ultimately wanted to kill me.”

There was emotion thick in Jimin’s voice as he murmured out, “I know you almost died. I fucking know, okay?”

The road was relatively thin on traffic, so Seokjin took his eyes off the lane ahead of him to glance briefly as Jimin. “I’m not saying this to hurt you,” he emphasized. “Or to bring up bad memories. I’m telling you because you’re smarter than this. You’re better than this. Do not underestimate someone else, especially if you don’t really know anything about them to begin with. I don’t want us to be Infinite in this scenario.”

Jimin didn’t look happy with his words, but he also wasn’t rebuking them.

Seokjin let some silence pass in the car, and concentrated on the road ahead of them. They didn’t have a terribly long drive, but it wasn’t a short one, either. The conference was due to start just before noon, however, and Seokjin wanted to reach the hotel before then.

So fifteen minutes after Jimin had first started the conversation, Seokjin said, “I didn’t tell Namjoon that you wanted to use me to poke around. I didn’t say anything of the sort, and I promise you the only reason you’re with me is because he’s forgotten about that Triad nonsense.”

“Of course he has,” Jimin said, unreadable in his tone. “Someone tried to kill you. That’s all any of us is thinking of.”

Seokjin said, “You’re right. This whole business has people rattled. That’s why I asked Namjoon to send you with me. Not because I think I need a keeper, not because I want you to get into the trouble I know you’re bound to get into. But because I can’t stand to see people I love be unhappy, anxious, or just worry themselves to the grave.”

Jimin surmised, “So you did this for him.”

Seokjin cut him a sharp look. “I did it for you, too.”

That seemed to startle Jimin. “Me? Me too?”

“Of course you, too.” Seokjin let out a long breath. “Jimin, I know this is a hard thing for us to talk about—our relationship, your feelings, and me being in love with Namjoon. It’s not just hard, it hurts. But the bottom line is, I like you a lot. I care about you. And like the other members of Bangtan, I’m starting to love you. You’re starting to feel like a brother to me.”

Tensely, but with some humor for levity, Jimin said, “Probably the kind of brother you should have had. Not the lovey-dovey, understanding brother you actually got. Brothers are supposed to go for each other’s throat’s most of the time, you know.”

Seokjin gripped the wheel a little tighter and asked, “But that’s not how you were with your brother, were you?”

“You …” Jimin looked at him with such furry. “Who told you about him?” Betrayal. More than furry, Jimin looked betrayed.

Instead of answering the question, Seokjin offered up, “I think it’s a stereotype to think that brothers can’t be kind and loving to each other. It’s definitely a stereotype to say that brothers just fight all the time, and are competitive, and have to act a certain way. There’s nothing wrong with my relationship with Jungkook. I love that we’re so close. I love that we can tease each other, but at the end of the day, we can be affectionate, too, and tactile. I like hugging my brother, and not fighting with him, and telling him I love him.”

Though to a point, Seokjin did think that had a lot to do with him practically raising Jungkook. Maybe they’d had a father physically during their childhood, but emotionally Seokjin had filled the void their father left, and that probably impacted the dynamic of their relationship as brothers.

Still, Seokjin wouldn’t give up the way they were with each other for anything in the world. How could he ever want to wrestle with his brother, when they could lay together comfortably on the sofa and watch a movie, or talk, or just enjoy each other?

“Suga did, didn’t he?” Jimin asked ruthlessly. “That bastard. He’s the only one who knows more than he should.”

It might have been stepping over that glaring red line that had always been drawn by Jimin from the start, but Seokjin couldn’t help saying, “One day I hope you’ll want to talk about him. One day, I hope it won’t hurt so bad. But until you get there, I want you to know that you’re my family now, too. You’re stuck with me. And I don’t plan on wrestling you to the floor or breaking any of your toys.”

To that, Jimin didn’t give a response.

So Seokjin clarified from earlier, “I did ask for you to come to make Namjoon breathe a little easier. I love him. I don’t want him to worry. And I knew that if I had someone come along with me, especially someone he trusts, that he’d actually be able to sleep at night. But I also asked you to come because I know that this is something that’s been under your skin for a while. I know Namjoon thinks you’re wrong, but I also know your gut is telling you something. So I thought let me do this for Jimin, too. So you’ll have your answer no matter what, of what’s going on, and we can put this behind us.”

Jimin shifted in his seat, maybe uncomfortably, and said, “But you didn’t tell him. You didn’t tell him what you know I plan to do while I’ve got all that free time during your conference. That’s the part I don’t understand. How could you not tell him?”

He couldn’t just tell Jimin because he felt guilty. Because he felt like he owed something to Jimin because of the man’s feelings for him—feelings that could never be returned.

Steadily, Seokjin said, “I didn’t tell him because I’m hoping you’ll come through for me.”

“How? What do you mean?”

“I’m hoping,” Seokjin said, “that you’ll go poking your nose around with some tact and grace. I’m hoping, maybe foolishly, that you won’t just think blundering around with the assumption that being in Bangtan gives you clout, is the way to go. I’m practically begging, Jimin, that you don’t get caught, you don’t make trouble, and this doesn’t get back to Namjoon.”

“So you don’t have to tell him,” Jimin guessed.

“I’ll have to tell him if you do find something,” Seokjin said with a shrug. “He’s going to want to know where the information came from, if there is any. And I’m not going to lie to him. Not directly at least—I already feel terrible doing this.”

“Then …” Jimin trailed off.

Honestly, Seokjin said, “I know you don’t doubt your gut. I know you’re convinced that there’s something going on with these gangs comprising this Triad. But I’m really crossing my fingers that you find absolutely nothing. And that when your curiosity is sated, I don’t have to tell Namjoon that I snuck you in under his nose.”

“I can’t believe it,” Jimin said, clearly more to himself than Seokjin.

There was some congestion ahead on the road, so Seokjin slowed the car, and it was a moment for him to agree, “I don’t believe I’m doing this, either. I promised myself I wouldn’t lie to Namjoon about anything, ever. And this is a lie by omission. But for you? To make you feel better? Sometimes I guess bending that moral compass of mine is just something that has to happen. I’ll take the consequences as they come.”

“Jin,” Jimin said in a strangled way.

“Because you’re my brother,” Seokjin said, looking once more to him. “Like it or not, you are. I tried to keep myself separate from Bangtan for a long time. I tried to keep you at arm’s length, or delude myself into the notion that we could just be friends. But we’re more than that. We’re family. What you’ve all done for me, for Jungkook, and for our family, is amazing. And even if I wanted to say otherwise, the truth would still be that you are my family now. So I’m going to do this for you, even if it’s going against my better judgement, because I don’t want you to have that uneasy feeling in your stomach.”

Jimin said in a huff, “This is why brothers should just wrestle each other.”

“Promise me,” Seokjin said to him. “Promise me you will do your best to act with caution. Promise me that you’ll know when enough is enough, even if you don’t find anything. Please don’t let this blow up in our faces. Because it’s a lot more than just me or you on the line if this goes south. I do hope you’ve thought of that.”

“Jeeze,” Jimin eased out, “I’m impulsive, but I’m not impossible.”

“I know,” Seokjin agreed. Contrary to some past examples, Jimin could think things through and not act selfishly. “But Namjoon and Yoongi, and everyone in Bangtan fought long and hard for us to get to where we are. I know you’re being ruled by what your gut says right now, but don’t dismiss Namjoon’s point on this matter. We have peace right now because everyone is staying in their lane. No one is rocking the boat. If we’re the ones to do that, when we’re the ones who’re dictating this period of peace, how will that make us look?”

Jimin looked darkly at him and said in a matching tone, “There’s nothing peaceful about what happened to you. And that bastard Kim Sunggyu better be glad he’s dead, because if I’d gotten my hands on him, he’d be much, much worse off.”

Seokjin wasn’t surprised. He often remarked that under Jimin’s hard shell—the shell he’d built up to protect himself after all of the loss and pain he’d endured growing up, was a squishy and soft Jimin that just wanted to be loved and cared for. But Seokjin wasn’t exactly delusional. Like Namjoon, Jimin was capable of all kinds of untold things, and wouldn’t hesitate to do them if they were necessary.

That wasn’t something Seokjin thought about often, but he knew the first life Namjoon had taken hadn’t been Woohyun’s. And Jimin had probably been very young when he’d taken his pound of flesh from the monsters that had destroyed his family.

It was likely, as well, that the other members of Bangtan, like Hoseok, Yoongi, and Taehyung, all had blood on their hands. Seokjin wasn’t asking, but he wasn’t ignorant, either.

He just hoped, maybe foolishly, that Jungkook could hold onto his innocence in that way, if only for a while longer. There was peace now. Infinite was mostly gone. Jungkook certainly hadn’t admitted to hurting anyone, or taking a life, and so Seokjin decided to believe that that was true.

He honestly didn’t know what he was going to do if the moment came that he had to recognize the level of violence Jungkook was capable of. He’d seen his brother firing a gun before. But he thought that was a far cry from the day his brother might possible confess to him that he’d taken a life in the name of something righteous.

“—istening to me?”

Seokjin glanced over at Jimin. “Of course I am.”

“Liar,” Jimin said, with some amusement. “I bet you were busy thinking about how you’re going to win a Nobel peace prize, or something like that.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “So are you going to make that promise to me?”

“To be a good boy?”

“Essentially,” Seokjin said. “And I trust you know that if you give your word to me, it means something. It has weight. I’m trusting that if you promise me something, you’ll do everything in your power to keep that promise.”

Jimin leaned an elbow up on the windowsill and said in a convincing, honest way, “Yeah, I know. You’re big on words meaning something.”

“They mean everything,” Seokjin corrected.

Clearly tempered, Seokjin was pleased to hear Jimin say, “Fine, fine. This is me, making that promise to you. I promise you, if I look into things, I’ll be careful. If I find nothing, I’ll back off. I won’t put you in danger. I won’t put Bangtan I danger. I won’t put peace in danger. You’ve got my word. Happy?”

“I am,” Seokjin said, perking. “Because I trust you. I trust your word.”

Jimin wailed, “My teeth are rotting.”

Seokjin wasn’t buying that for a second, and urged, “Come on, fess up. You love it when we have these conversations. You love it when I say mushy, emotional things to you. You love me being soft on you.”

“Do not,” Jimin whined out in an unbelievable way.

“See?” Seokjin needled. “Isn’t this better? Who wants to wrestle and break each other’s bones when we can have emotional moments like these and really talk about our feelings.”

Jimin palmed dramatically on the car window. “Help. Someone help me.”

Seokjin laughed. “Want to spends turns tonight talking about our ideal type of boyfriends? And gossiping about the newest drama on television?”

“I will,” Jimin vowed, “throw myself from this car and take the easy way out.”

With a touch of seriousness, Seokjin asked, “It’s okay that I treat you like a brother, right? It’s okay that I tell you I see you as family, and that you matter to me in ways that Jungkook matters to me, right?”

Jimin replied, “I’m not offended.”

Miffed, Seokjin said, “There’s a difference between being offended by something, and not being okay with it. I can … I can try and tone down my feelings for you, if that’s what you want. I can try and be more careful with what I say, and how I see you.”

Bluntly, almost painfully so, Jimin said, “I wish you’d love me. Not as a brother, either. I wish you could look at me and feel the same way that you feel about Rap Mon. And the fact that you don’t? The fact that you never will, it smarts. It sucks.”

Seokjin’s first instinct was to apologize. It was always to apologize.

“But,” Jimin rushed to say, “the idea that you could love me in any way, and see me as your family? That’s…” Jimin visibly had to stop himself to breathe evenly for a few moments.

Seokjin was determined not to interrupt him.

“I’m okay with it,” Jimin said finally, and that was probably as close to a sweeping declaration as Seokjin was going to get. And it was definitely enough.

“Good,” Seokjin said, satisfied. “Now, should we commence fighting over the radio for the next few hours? Or are you going to save us both a lot of time and energy and just let me pick?”

Jimin arched an eyebrow and quipped, “I guess so. I mean, you are the big brother here.”

“I see you’re finally starting to come around,” Seokjin chuckled.

But he was a self-confessed softie, so he let Jimin pick anyway. Because Seokjin was always too easy on his little brother, and in that moment, Jimin was.


	12. Chapter Twelve

There was disbelief in Jungkook’s voice when he said, “Oh my god, Jin. You’ve seriously been away twelve hours. Are you kidding me?”

“What?” Seokjin demanded. “I’m just—”

Jungkook interrupted, “—calling to make sure I’m still breathing, or that I haven’t decide to rob a bank or something.”

Seokjin replied knowingly, “That’s just ridiculous. We both know you’d never willingly go into a bank, not since you got lost in a bathroom there.”

Jungkook sputtered. “How dare you! I was six and that was a big bathroom!”

Standing next to Seokjin, a long-time friend of his, and one of the people he’d most been looking forward to reconnecting with at the conference, gave a laugh. Jungkook was speaking loud enough for her to hear, not that Seokjin was trying to contain the privacy of the conversation at all.

“Who is that?” Jungkook ordered, “That’s a girl!”

Seokjin raised an eyebrow at the woman standing next to him, and tipped the phone in her direction.

She wasted no time saying, “Jungkook, you’d better learn some respect and not talk to your brother like you are.” She had a smile on her face even as she worked to sound tern. “I have personally changed your diapers, so don’t you test me on this. I know more dirt about you than you will ever be able to guess, even if you tried.”

Jungkook didn’t speak for a few seconds, then he asked, “Jin? Who is that?”

“Your worst nightmare,” she supplied, “you little brat.”

Seokjin let himself laugh as he said, “If you’d been listening at all, you would know that I was planning on meeting up with Sunmi while I was here.”

Shakily, Jungkook asked, “Lee Sunmi?”

“Remember me now, right?”

Seokjin pushed at her gently. “Jungkook, I told you she was a speaker here.”

She’d been the kind of childhood friend that Minah had been. And now that he thought about it, the fact that he’d surrounded himself grouping up with people who’d one day become brilliant doctors, maybe said something about how his life had been destined to turn out.

Lee Sunmi, who’d been three years Seokjin’s senior, had been the daughter of his mother’s best friend. So while she’d been alive, their families had been close. They’d drifted, naturally, after her death. But Seokjin hadn’t really lost contact with Sunmi, not even as she’d gone to college, and then medical school, and then begun pioneering new medical techniques.

She was a gorilla-style kind of doctor. The term was a little demeaning, or at least it was considered so by some people, but it was fitting in a way. Some doctors wanted the posh office, and the state-of-the-art equipment, and the fancy lab. Some doctors wanted to be the first to use the new techniques being developed.

And then there were doctors like Sunmi, who were the ones developing those techniques. She was the one throwing herself into unknown waters—uncharted territory, innovating, challenging, and utterly destroying preconceived notions.

She’d once performed an intensive, almost impossible surgery in the middle of the Malaysian jungle, to save a young man’s life. He’d taken a nasty fall and hit his head. There’d been intercranial swelling, and the kind of building pressure that was going to kill the man before the slow bleed in him did. But she’d saved his life, with rudimentary tools, sheer determination, and a brand-new method that was now named after her.

She was the kind of doctor Seokjin aspired to be, minus the traipsing through Malaysian jungles part.

In a squeaky way, Jungkook offered, “Hi, Sunmi.”

Sunmi laughed, and then told Seokjin, “I’m looking forward to seeing you again tomorrow. Lunch is on me, okay?” She waved to him, and began to drift off into the crowd where she was drawing attention from countless people who wanted her to stop and talk with them.

“Is she still there?” Jungkook whispered.

Seokjin settled the phone back against his ear. “She’s not.”

“Jerk,” Jungkook offered up. “You should have told me—made sure I was listening.”

Seokjin didn’t tease him with the knowledge, but it was hard to forget that for years and years Jungkook had harbored a crush on her. She’d always been like a cousin to them, but when puberty had hit, it hadn’t been hard to determine the flushed look on Jungkook’s face whenever she came around.

Seokjin told him, “You should be lucky I even let you say hi. Now, tell me how everything is going in Seoul.” He was deep in the heart of the convention hall, but the day was mostly over and Seokjin was ready to get back to the hotel and change out of his clothes and into something more comfortable. He’d promised Jimin he’d wait for him to get there before going outside, but Seokjin as starting to get impatient.

“You mean assure you that your boyfriend hasn’t decided to end it all because he can’t live without you at arm’s length?”

Seokjin ignored that jab. “Did you go to class today?”

“I go every day,” Jungkook reminded. “I think you’d string me up if I didn’t.”

Seokjin didn’t mind pointing out, “I wouldn’t. Come on, you know I’ve always supported your choices as an adult.  But you’ve definitely been enjoying that stipend dad set aside for you, you know, the one you used to buy that car with, and pay your rent with, and buy your food with.”

“Jin,” Jungkook whined out.

“Call a spade a spade,” Seokjin said without any bite. “However, since you’ve pointed out your mandatory attendance, how about you just settle with telling me how your day went.”

There was obvious happiness in Jungkook’s voice as he said, “Pretty good, actually. We’re working on our midterm projects right now in my music comp class. It sucked in the beginning, you know, trying to figure out what my project was going to be. But I’ve got it narrowed down now, and I think I’m making progress.”

“You always find you way,” Seokjin complimented. “You’re good at that, Jungkook. Even if you take your time getting there, sometimes.”

“We have to present our projects for our final grade,” Jungkook said, an edge to his voice. “Twice, actually. Once to the class, and once to the public. The university is having an open house just before midterms. Everyone has to present there, too.”

And, Seokjin knew without it being said, Jungkook wanted him there. Seokjin spoke his brother fluently enough to know when something was being hinted at, and when something was important to Jungkook.

Not to mention this would be Jungkook’s first open house at the University. It would be the first time he’d attended University that friends and family were invited to view student projects and see demonstrations.

“Do I get an actual invite,” Seokjin asked, starting to push through the crowd of people towards the front of the convention hall. When Jimin did decide to show up, he wanted to be ready to go. “Or will you spring the details on me at the last second?”

In a rushed way, Jungkook said, “You don’t have to come, you know. It’s just midterms. It’s not even the final. And it’s just this stupid project that doesn’t even mean anything, anyway. It’s not—”

“Jungkook,” Seokjin said gently. “How many times did you come to something at my school for me?”

“Practically every weekend,” Jungkook told him. “You’re a total nerd, Jin. You were always doing a million things, and winning awards, and being the best.”

Seokjin let himself step to the side, out of the flow of people, so he could tell his brother, “And you were always there. Always. It didn’t matter if you had something else you wanted to do, or you were bored out of your mind, you were always there. You never let me down. You always supported me.”

“You’re my brother,” Jungkook reminded. “And even when I was bored, I wanted to be there.”

Seokjin very much doubted the absoluteness of that statement, but Jungkook’s support had always meant the world to him. Their father had rarely come to Seokjin’s events at school. He simply hadn’t had the time, or maybe the motivation. Seokjin had learned long ago not to take that personally, and what had helped was having Jungkook there.

When Seokjin had graduated college, he’d really only cared about Jungkook’s approval. And when he’d had his medical degree, Jungkook had been the first person he’d shown it to.

Maybe they were too dependent on each other, but Jungkook was everything to him, and even falling in love with Namjoon wasn’t going to change that.

“And I want to be here for this,” Seokjin told him firmly. “I’m excited to see what that mind of yours has come up with—I bet it’s brilliant. You’re brilliant.”

“Jiiinnnnnn.”

“Write the date down, will you? I’ll be there. Namjoon will, too. We’ll all be there, cheering you on to those top marks I know you’ll deserve to get.”

“I will,” Jungkook promised.

Seokjin couldn’t help breaking the moment between them, seconds later, to ask, “Now tell me, has Namjoon gone on a rampage through Bangtan territory yet? Or is he hiding out in our apartment?”

Jungkook’s laughter filtered through the phoneline before he said, “Neither, actually. You must have said something good to him before you left. He’s kind of holding it down here right now. I can see him where I’m standing.”

“Where are you?” Seokjin pressed. He stopped to consider for a second that maybe he’d been wrong when he’d thought that Namjoon would have a hard time with their separation. Maybe it was just Seokjin who was destined to struggle.

Jungkook said easily, “I’m just watching the perimeter right now. Rap Mon’s inside with Suho doing business.”

“Should you be on the phone with me right now, then?” The last thing he wanted was to distract his brother when he was working. He wasn’t going to put Jungkook or Namjoon in danger just so he could chat with his brother.

It did a lot to ease Seokjin’s worry that Jungkook told him right away, and not in a rushed or tense way, “Nah. We vetted the area heavily before either of them ever got near this place, and there’s about a dozen of us here just where I’m standing. Security is tight. Maybe there’s even too much. Trust me, I’m good to talk. Nothing’s going to happen.”

Breathing out in relief, Seokjin wanted to know, “He looks okay, then? He’s fine?”

Again, from the start of their conversation, Jungkook said plainly, “It’s been twelve hours since you left. Not even I could sabotage myself in twelve hours.”

Calming himself, Seokjin admitted, “I’m overacting. Okay. I get it. I’m the problem here.”

“You’re not a problem, Jin. You’re just in mom mode. Turn that off, okay? You haven’t been this bad since I joined up with Bangtan.”

He knew Jungkook was right. He’d spent so much time deluding himself into thinking Namjoon would be the worrier, but in the end, it was always just going to be Seokjin.

All the same, he couldn’t help asking, “Stay with him tonight? For a while, at least. If you’re not supposed to be somewhere, or if nothing is going on, tell Namjoon you want to hang out. Or get Yoongi to do it. Anything. Just don’t let Namjoon be alone in that apartment by himself.” Seokjin was too worried that if he was by himself, Namjoon’s thoughts would run away from him.

“I am really scared for what you’re going to be like when you actually have kids, Jin.”

His brother’s lighthearted remarks hit deep in him, and some of the tension was lifted.

“Honestly,” he said back, “I’m a little scared, too.”

Alleviating some concern, Jungkook promised, “I’ll get some guys together and make sure Rap Mon doesn’t emo himself to death. What a way to go.”

“Thank you,” Seokjin said.

Almost too excitedly, Jungkook asked, “Have you strangled Jimin to death yet?”

“Like you said, it’s only been twelve hours.”

“Twelve hours, sure. But you spent like four of those sitting in a confined space with him. If he’s dead, you really gotta let me know. He pays the other half of the rent.”

Seokjin said dryly, “That’s so pragmatic of you, Jungkook.”

“I also have a bet with V.  He thinks you won’t kill him until tomorrow. I think it’ll be tonight. There’s a thousand won riding on this.”

Seokjin started his trek towards the front of the building again, merging with the crowd as he told Jungkook, “Only a thousand won? You’re letting me down, Jungkook.”

He could practically see the thousand-watt smile on Jungkook’s face.

“Actually,” he said, finally stepping out into the warmth of the day and away from the conference hall’s air conditioner, “I haven’t even seen Jimin all that much today.” He wanted to be careful with what he said. He didn’t want to let Jungkook know in the slightest what Jimin had likely been up to the entire day.

Because Seokjin was absolutely certain that no matter how much Jungkook loved Bangtan and making a difference in the lives of others, that his loyalty first and foremost was to Seokjin. So if Seokjin asked him to withhold information, or even blatantly lie, Seokjin knew he’d do it.

That was why Seokjin never wanted to put Jungkook in that position. He never wanted to be someone who put that conflict in Jungkook. The easier option was just to keep his mouth shut about Jimin, but still stick as close to the truth as possible.

“He’s supposed to be there as your security,” Jungkook said in a frustrated way.

The phone vibrated then in his hand, with perfect timing, and across the screen was a message from Jimin that traffic was thick but he was on his way.

Seokjin wanted to text him back with a threat about the car. He’d pressed the keys into Jimin’s hand earlier that day, just after noon when the conference had started, and Seokjin hadn’t had need of it again.

He’d said, “I’m trusting you with my father’s car, Jimin.”

Jimin had cut back, “It’s your car, Jin.”

To Jin, it would always be his father’s. His father had a way of retaining ownership of things even after his death.

“Do not,” he’d said sharply, with anxiety, “make me regret this.”

He’d give the car to Jimin because he hadn’t wanted Jimin to feel confined to the hotel room all day long, or limited with his mobility. Jimin wasn’t someone who did well with limitations, or conformities.

And Seokjin was awfully nervous about Jimin poking his nose around in the area. But it seemed like he had a better chance of Jimin being successful, if he had a car at his disposal.

The real test, it seemed, would be when Jimin was able to fight his way through traffic and Seokjin could get his first real look at the car after hours of separation.

“I wasn’t going to have it him in the conference with me,” Seokjin told Jungkook like it was the only possible answer to the unspoken accusation. “Jungkook, imagine Jimin having to sit in a room for six hours, not fidget, and listen to people that he finds bland and boring, talk about things that go right over his head. Putting him in the room with me would have been the worst idea in the world.”

Jungkook shot back, “How’s he supposed to keep an eye on you, huh, if he’s not in the room with you?”

“I think you’re forgetting again that I’m the big brother and you’re the little brother.”

Someone called his name further down and Seokjin turned. A couple of old friends were waving at him, and Seokjin waved back. He would have liked, despite his worry, to spend more time in the area. He knew a lot of people who were attending the conference, who were friends from college and medical school. It would have been nice to spend a few days catching up with them.

But it was also nice to know that he was going home the following day, back to Jungkook, back to his clinic, and back to Namjoon.

“This is your little brother,” Jungkook said, “reminding you that the whole point of Jimin being there, is that he’s there.”

If only to calm Jungkook’s nerves, Seokjin said, “Jimin dropped me off here earlier, I haven’t left the conference hall since then, and I’m waiting for Jimin to come get me. Then, I assume, we’ll get some dinner, go back to the hotel room that we’re sharing, and rinse and repeat tomorrow.”

Jungkook asked, “Not the hotel part, though, right? You’re coming home tomorrow, right?”

“Right,” Seokjin assured. “The second day goes until about seven tomorrow, and then it’ll be several hours drive back to Seoul, but I will be back tomorrow night. Why? Are you going to be waiting up for me?”

A honk sounded and Seokjin saw his father’s car pull up, Jimin in the driver’s seat.

The car looked immaculate, too, which was a relief.

“Jimin’s here,” Seokjin interrupted whatever Jungkook was going to say. “Be safe, okay?”

“You say that all the time,” Jungkook reminded.

“You’re always doing things that make me feel like I have to say it. I’ve got to go. Remind Namjoon I’ll call him later when you get the chance, okay?”

“Okay, okay,” Jungkook said, and then they were ending the call.

Seokjin had barely been in the car for a moment, sliding into the passenger seat and setting his bag down on the floorboard, before Jimin said, “As you can see, your car is in pristine condition.”

“I can see,” Seokjin agreed.

Jimin took them away from the conference hall, which was still horribly packed, and asked, “Were you talking with Rap Mon?”

“Jungkook,” Seokjin corrected.

Jimin hummed a little. “I talked to Suga earlier. He said everything’s been quiet there.”

Seokjin watched the lights flash by them as they passed buildings. “That must make you happy. You can’t stand not being somewhere if there’s something happening.”

“You say that like it’s bad thing,” Jimin pointed out. He waited a few more seconds before asking, “Was your … meeting thing good?”

“Meeting thing,” Seokjin chuckled. “Conference. It’s a conference, which means there are speakers, activities, and lots of educational material to digest.”

Jimin made a snoring sound.

“To you,” Seokjin told him, not offended. “To me? Things have improved greatly for my clinic. I’m not always looking over my shoulder now, we’re not living month to month in terms of funding, and we’re bigger than ever. But we still have a lot of limitations. I’m certain that the things I’m learning today, may save lives one day, if someone happens to stumble into my clinic, instead of a big hospital.”

Jimin shot him a look from the corner of his eye. “But you went to medical school. You’re like a genius and you went young, too. Don’t you already know everything?”

Relaxing down into his seat, Seokjin let himself sink into it and said with a grin, “That’s very nice of you to say, but trust me. I could go back to school every day for the rest of my life, and I still wouldn’t come close to knowing everything I want to in my medical field. So the best I can do is put my knowledge into practical use, and never stop trying to be better.”

In a joking way, Jimin said, “Nerd.”

Seokjin only shook his head. “Let’s run back by the hotel, okay? I want to take a shower and change my clothes. Then maybe we can get some dinner?”

Jimin shrugged, and back to the hotel they went.

Seokjin, even before he’d known Jimin was coming with him on the two-day trip, hadn’t booked a fancy hotel. He was always fiscally conservative, now that he had his clinic and money had such a different weight to it. But this trip was an indulgence, in a way, so he’d gone ahead and let himself splurge a little on the hotel. He’d also upgraded his room when he’d found out Jimin would be with him for certain, and they’d need two beds, instead of one.

Treating himself to a nice hotel meant a lovely bathroom, one that Seokjin certainly took his time in when they got back to the hotel. He washed thoroughly, enjoyed the spacious accommodations, and took an extra minute to primp in the large vanity mirror located in the bathroom.

By the time Seokjin emerged from the bathroom, feeling reinvigorated, Jimin was stretched out on the bed closest to the door, watching something on tv.

“Finally,” he said, rolling off the bed. “Is this what Rap Mon normally puts up with in the morning? How do the two of you survive having one bathroom?”

Seokjin challenged back, “How do you and Jungkook? Oh, that’s right, other than the toilet, the two of you don’t use the bathroom enough.”

“I wash up just fine,” Jimin declared.

Seokjin tucked away some of his shower items, and then picked up his cell phone. He swore, “We can leave for dinner in just a second, okay? Let me give Namjoon a quick call, and then we’re out of here.” He moved towards the balcony for some privacy.

As he was stepping out on the small but quaint space, he heard Jimin call after him, “Be thankful I’m here and not V! V would have already started eating parts of this room if it was him!”

When Seokjin called Namjoon, he was half worried that the man wouldn’t be able to pick up. If he’d been meeting with Suho earlier, something important must have been going on. However, his fears were laid to the side when after just a couple of rings, Namjoon’s warm voice came across.

“I miss you,” Seokjin, embarrassingly enough, couldn’t help blurting out.

“I miss you too,” Namjoon replied right away. “I keep thinking I’m going to go home tonight and you’ll be there waiting for me. And earlier I was going to call you and ask if you wanted me to bring home dinner. I keep forgetting you’re so far away.”

“Not that far,” Seokjin said, leaning on the balcony’s railing. “But far enough, I guess.”

Namjoon asked, “Are you having a good time, at least?”

“The best,” Seokjin said, and that wasn’t a lie or embellishment. “The conference is going really well, and there are a lot of people here I haven’t seen in a long time. I’m enjoying myself. I’m glad I came.”

They chatted, easily enough, about mundane topics.  Whatever Namjoon was doing in that moment, he definitely made it seem like Seokjin was the priority, and Seokjin was simply enjoying the rough deepness to Namjoon’s voice. What they were talking about didn’t matter, just that they were talking.

“No problems up there?” Namjoon did ask eventually.

Seokjin looked out over the cityscape laid out before him. His and Jimin’s room wasn’t terribly high up, just five stories, but the city was flat, so he could see for miles. It was a beautiful sight, against the setting sun.

“None,” Seokjin said, feeling blessed he could say that.

“Good,” Namjoon said a little gruffly.

Turning the tables, Seokjin asked, “What about you? Any trouble up where you are?”

There was a delay then, before Namjoon said, “Not trouble, just …business.”

A knock came from the sliding glass door that separated the balcony from the hotel room.

“Jimin’s about to die from hunger, apparently,” Seokjin reported, eyebrows high as Jimin dramatically leaned against the glass and grasped at his throat. “Will you be terribly upset if I bring back his dead husk of a body?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Namjoon said in an amused way. “You know he’s useful and we should probably keep him around.”

“Fair enough.” Seokjin knocked back on the glass and held up two fingers. “I’m having fun here, but I’m really looking forward to being back home with you. I miss our apartment. I miss being closer to Bangtan.”

In an amused way, Namjoon said, “You miss Bangtan? Not Jungkook and the others? Hold the presses. We need to talk about this.”

“Ha-ha,” he said generically. “Laugh all you want, but I guess I do miss seeing your boys everywhere.”

He’d gotten so used to Namjoon’s men being everywhere that it was almost startling now to go out and not see anyone.  He’d always considering Bangtan’s presence to be something he simply accepted, and grew used to, but now without that presence, he was starting to notice how open and exposed he felt.

“Well, you’ll be home soon enough, and then you can complain about feeling suffocated again when I make them follow you everywhere I can.”

Taking a deep breath, Seokjin forced himself to say, “Take care of yourself tonight, okay? Eat a good dinner, go to bed at a decent time, and don’t work too hard. You always work too hard.”

“Pot and Kettle,” Namjoon told him. “See you tomorrow. Love you.”

“Love you,” Seokjin echoed.

“You done crying over being separated from your one true love?” Jimin asked when Seokjin stepped back in the room.

Seokjin shrugged. “I was asking Namjoon if I had permission to strangle you in your sleep. He said he’d prefer if I didn’t, but I got the go-ahead if necessary.”

Jimin gave him a look of disbelief and said, “Try saying that with a straight face, okay? And then maybe I’ll think you’re capable of something like that. You freak out when someone has a scrapped knee. I’m not exactly worried.”

Seokjin retrieved his wallet from the bedside table and said, “Okay, let’s go get some dinner.”

They didn’t go far from the hotel for dinner, picking the first place that looked halfway decent and didn’t have a wait. Because honestly Seokjin was exhausted. He’d woken up early and spent a good deal of time traveling, and then sat through a conference all day long. He was exhausted, and now he just wanted some good food and a soft bed to sleep in.

Still, he was curious about what Jimin had gotten up to that day.

“I’m not asking for details,” Seokjin said sharply. “But today … what did you do? You know … to satisfy the curiosity in you.”

Jimin laughed out, “Did you really just phrase it like that?”

Dropping his voice to a whisper, Seokjin leaned across the table they were sitting at to say, “Did you want me to announce to everyone in this restaurant that you’ve spent the day sticking your nose into gang affairs? Oh, and that also by the way, you’re a member of Bangtan?”

“Might be interesting,” Jimin said.

“Would be stupid,” Seokjin corrected.

Jimin didn’t contest that, and instead, he said, “I’ve got a friend who lives here. He’s not in a gang, but he’s got ties.”

Seokjin wondered, “To which one? Or all three? I feel like this is getting complicated.”

Jimin clarified, “Pentagon. And they’re kind of the ringleader as far as I can tell. Whatever’s going on, they’re taking the lead. It doesn’t necessarily mean they’re the most powerful gang in this region, but they’re taking the initiative. And my friend has an in with them. I’ve been talking with him today, getting some information, and checking some places out. That’s all. I haven’t been starting a gang turf war like you and Rap Mon think I’m bound to.”

Seokjin stirred his chopsticks through the bowl in front of him and confessed, “I don’t think you’d willingly start anything. You’re much too smart for that. And even more, you saw what it almost cost us last time.”

Going still, Jimin said, “It almost cost us you.”

“Not just me,” Seokjin argued. “It almost cost us the neighborhood. It almost cost us a lot of innocent lives. So no, I don’t think you’d willingly cause anything like that, and neither does Namjoon. We’re more worried about what could accidentally be triggered. This isn’t Seoul, but conflict could easily be brought there.”

“I’m being careful,” Jimin said, and it sounded more like a promise than anything else. “My friend is discrete, and so am I.”

“Okay,” Seokjin breathed out. “So you’re asking questions?”

Jimin nodded seriously. “Someone here knows why these three gangs are getting so chummy with each other. There’s some clue here as to why they’re pulling together like this. And I plan to find out what’s going on by the time we leave tomorrow.”

Seokjin pointed out, “You’re going to have to. We’re leaving on time tomorrow regardless if you’ve found something out or not.”

“I know that,” Jimin said a little tensely. “I know I’m working with a ticking clock here. When I pick you up tomorrow, we’re going home no matter what.”

Seokjin put a weary elbow up on the table and said, “It’s been nice coming out here, and I’m looking forward to day two of the conference, but isn’t the idea of going home nicer?”

Jimin grumbled a little, “It’s just a place.”

Seokjin wasn’t fooled for one second, and said, “I don’t think you feel that way at all, I think you just don’t want to admit the truth.”

“Which is?”

Seokjin nudged him under the table with his foot. “That you have an actual home. You have a place to call your own where people care about you, and worry after you, and want you around. I think that overwhelms you. I think in a lot of ways, it makes you uncomfortable to know that there are people out there who will worry if you don’t come home at a certain time, and take the initiative to include you in things, and simply miss you when you’re not there. Deny it if you can.”

In typical Jimin fashion the other man replied in an attempt to distract, “You wanna hold hands now? Tell each other our deepest secrets?”

Seokjin eyed him carefully. “I don’t have any secrets left. And you? You don’t tell any of yours, regardless of their severity. So no. I just want you to understand that it’s okay to have a home, and want to go back to it, and admit that to someone you know will never use that against you.”

Jimin looked at him in a heavy way.

“What?” Seokjin asked. He didn’t think he’d toed his way over any kind of line. He hadn’t brought up Jimin’s past.

“I just don’t get it,” Jimin said in an unabashed, honest way. He sounded more astounded than anything else.

“Don’t get what?”

Jimin shook his head slowly. “You. The way you are, I mean. The things you say. How you act.”

Trying to regain his footing in the situation Seokjin questioned, “You don’t get how someone can be decent to someone else? I believe since I’ve shown you it’s possible, you should give it a try.”

“I don’t get how you’re still like this,” Jimin corrected. “I mean maybe, maybe, in the beginning I could get you being all starry eyed and naïve.”

Seokjin cut in sharply, “I have never been naïve, Park Jimin.”

“You sure seemed like it,” Jimin said.  “But I mean, in the beginning, when you didn’t know what was going on—not really, and you weren’t involved in gang business, I could see how you could be so ...,peppy.”

Seokjin laughed out, “Peppy.”

“But now?” The amazement was blatant on Jimin’s face. “After all you’ve been through, the shit you’ve seen, and what you’ve had to do, to still be the way you are? It’s kind of baffling.”

“You’re baffled,” Seokjin pointed out, “that I’m a positive, optimistic person? Who isn’t afraid to get emotional when he needs to, and tell his friends how much they mean to him?”

Jimin went back to his food, swallowing several mouthfuls as they lapsed back into silence.

But it didn’t last, because Jimin said, “I just think it’s kind of crazy. People like you aren’t real most of the time. People like you don’t really exist outside of books and movies and stuff like that.”

Jimin was kind of adorable when his face lit red from embarrassment he was feeling from his words.

“I’m not perfect,” Seokjin made sure to tell him. He wasn’t sure they’d had this conversation before. He didn’t think so, and it was an important one to have. “I’m definitely not perfect, Jimin. I make mistakes. I can be way too stubborn. When I dig my heels into something, I find it really hard to compromise. And you may have noticed, I have a horrible habit of lecturing people as if I’m their father and I have a right to do so.”

“But you don’t do it to be mean,” Jimin pointed out. “You do it because you care.”

Seokjin agreed with a nod and said, “I only get one life, just like you. And the world can be really awful and unfair sometimes, so I know I could go at any minute. My heart could give out, I could get caught up in gang violence, or I could just have an accident of some kind and that could be it. So I just don’t see the point of not living life to its fullest, or not letting people know how much you care about them. Supporting and caring for the most important people in your life in important. I want, when I do finally die, if it’s tomorrow or fifty years from now, to know that I made a difference in someone’s life.”

Bluntly, Jimin said, “You’re a Disney prince.”

Laughing, Seokjin said, “I just do my best, and it seems to work out well. And I think it’s worth saying that you’ve shown a lot of improvement in the last year I’ve known you.”

Jimin’s face pinched up. “Excuse me? Are you saying I used to be shitty or something?”

“Constipated,” Seokjin decided. “When I first met you, at least those first couple months, you always acted constipated.”

Jabbing his chopsticks at Seokjin Jimin said, “I’m going to be the one to take you out tonight.”

“But am I wrong?” Seokjin asked, nudging Jimin’s chopsticks back with his own. “You were very … tense when I first met you. Even with the other members of Bangtan. You were stiff and didn’t joke around, and it was hard to deal with you.”

“I’m always hard to deal with.”

“It was different then,” Seokjin said certainly. “It’s different now. It’s better now.”

Jimin warned, “I’m not gonna just start hugging you suddenly.”

Jimin said those words, but they were without merit. Seokjin knew for a fact that if he hugged Jimin, it would be reciprocated.

“We love you, you know,” Seokjin said, so quiet that he knew Jimin had to strain to hear him. “You are our family, and maybe that’s a scary notion to you, considering what you’ve lost in the past. But there are some things in this world taking a second chance on, Jimin, and this is one of them. This family isn’t perfect. This family doesn’t always agree. But this family will always be there for each other. Do you get that?”

What kind of response that was going to evoke from Jimin, seemed impossible to predict.

But then the best kind came, and Jimin gave a shallow nod, not meeting Seokjin’s eyes, and said, “I get it.”

“Good,” Seokjin said, pleased. “Now let’s eat up. I’m dying to go to bed.”

In reality, he almost fell asleep halfway through the meal. Twice.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Seokjin insisted when Jimin got their food boxed up so they could go back to the hotel room.

“You’re dead on your feet,” he corrected, “and Rap Mon told me in no uncertain terms that when you start to wear your food because you’re so tired, it’s my responsibility to pull the plug and make some executive decisions.”

They were all in cohorts, clearly. Seokjin wouldn’t have been surprised if Jungkook’s name had been in there.

So they went back to the hotel and ate the rest of their food there. Then Seokjin changed into his pajamas, brushed his teeth, and climbed into bed.

He set the alarm on his phone and placed it on the bedside table. Then he asked Jimin, who’d only really taken his shoes off, “Are you going to sit up all night and stare at the door? Waiting for it to be kicked down?”

“If I did,” Jimin said back to him, “you’d be glad.”

“Go to bed,” Seokjin ordered. “No one is coming through that door. And even if they did, I know you have a gun on you.”

Jimin looked sharply to him.

“I haven’t seen it,” Seokjin said, stopping to yawn. “But I know you. So if you’ve kept it out of sight, that’s all I ask for. This isn’t my clinic. I don’t make the rules here.”

Looking a touch offended, Jimin told him, “I’d never have it out around you unless it was there to save your life.”

Tugging the blankets up to his chest, Seokjin curled onto his side and said once more, “Come lay down. You’re going to do a lot tomorrow, right? You’re going to need a good night’s sleep for that.”

Jimin grumbled about it, but eventually he got changed into his nightclothes. And then by the time Seokjin was falling asleep, Jimin was in bed. It was probably the best he could have asked for, so he took it.

The morning, naturally, came quickly enough.

Seokjin and Jimin had breakfast together at a café just around the corner from the hotel, and then packed up their things and check out.

The convention center was fairly crowded already, by the time Jimin dropped Seokjin off.

“It ends at seven today, right?” Jimin verified.

Seokjin hooked his attendance badge of the front of his shirt and said, “It may run a little over, honestly. Count on seven-thirty or eight. I’ll send you a message later today when I can see how well we’re keeping to the time table.”

Jimin flashed him a thumbs up. “Okay, have a good time being super boring and educational.”

“Thank you,” Seokjin said with a grin. “Don’t get into trouble today. For once behave?”

“No promises,” Jimin shot back, and then he was driving off.

Seokjin watched the car go.

“You okay?” Sunmi asked, coming up alongside Seokjin. “Seokjin?”

“Of course,” he said, promising, “I’m just busy thinking about today.”

“You’re going to love today,” she replied, the both of them walking into the conference hall. “It’s better than yesterday.”

And of course she was right, not just because she was one of the keynote speakers. The second day was a lot more hands on, and Seokjin had always been more interested in the practical aspect of learning.  The lectures were interesting enough to sit through, but when it came time to participate in the interactive sections, Seokjin truly enjoyed himself

The day went faster, however, as he enjoyed himself more.

And then roughly an hour before the conference was set to end, Seokjin’s phone was vibrating. Seokjin frowned at the message from Jimin practically ordering him to leave early.

A bit of worry formed suddenly in him. Had something happened? Had something bad happened? What kind of trouble had Jimin gotten himself into?

Excusing himself from the group he’d been talking with, Seokjin went quickly to the front of the hall, exiting without hesitation, looking instantly for the car.

He was only waiting a for a second before it pulled up.

And Jimin was not in the driver’s seat.

“Get in,” the man in the passenger seat ordered. He gave Seokjin an assessing look, clearly trying to determine if he was dangerous or not.

Seokjin gripped the strap on his bag tightly and didn’t move. Where was Jimin? How badly was he hurt that he’d allowed these men, whoever they were, to take his phone and the car?

“I’d rather not,” Seokjin said evenly.

“I won’t ask again,” the man said.

Carefully, Seokjin pointed out, “That’s my car. I’d like to know why you’re driving it, and what happened to the person who was before you.”

The driver asked, “Park Jimin?”

Seokjin's heart clenched up. “Where is he?”

The driver leaned over and offered up, “You’re going to want to get in the car now. You don’t want to make a scene. That wouldn’t be good for you, or for your friend.”

Seokjin did not want to get in the car. It seemed a very, very bad idea. But he’d put Jimin in greater danger if he didn’t, and that was likely just the start of the problems he’d cause.

“If you so much as scratch this car, I will raise hell on earth,” Seokjin threatened, getting in the back seat.

The driver began laughing heavily.

“What’s so funny?” Seokjin asked, buckling in.

The man in the passenger seat turned to him and said, “That’s exactly what Park said.”

Under different circumstances, Seokjin would have laughed, too.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Seokjin was not scared.

He probably should have been, but he wasn’t.

Instead, he was more worried and angry than anything else.

As the seconds ticked by into minutes, and the minutes began to add up, Seokjin felt himself growing more and more offended that there was a stranger in his father’s car. There was a stranger handling his father’s possession. And these two strangers in the car might have already hurt someone Seokjin considered family.

They hadn’t pulled a gun on him yet. They hadn’t made any overt threats, other than what they’d said to get him in the car. And they weren’t really speaking to him or each other as they drove along.

And that, maybe in a disastrous way, gave Seokjin the confidence to lean himself forward from the back and demand, “You shouldn’t be driving this car. You have no right. You need to pull over right now.”

An arched eyebrow going high, the man in the passenger seat remarked, “You’re pretty sassy, aren’t you?”

He looked younger than Seokjin, probably closer to Jimin’s age, so Seokjin didn’t hesitate to say, “You should learn to show some respect for your elders.”

The driver asked, “Don’t you realize what kind of situation you’re in?”

Seokjin replied bluntly, “This isn’t even close to the worse situation I’ve ever been in. Now pull this car over. You want to make me go somewhere with you, that’s fine. But you’re not going to drive this car. I will drive the car, and you have no idea the kind of hell I’m capable of raising.”

His anxiety was rising, so his mouth was starting to run away from him, but Seokjin was doing his best to push back the panic attack that wanted to creep up on him.

“Can you believe this guy?” the driver asked the man in the passenger seat.

Seokjin grit his teeth. “Pull over.”

Remarkably, they did.

Seokjin was actually a little dumbfounded to find himself in the driver’s seat. He merged back into traffic, following the directions of the same man in the passenger seat, the driver now tucked into the backseat. And he asked in a confused way, “What kind of kidnappers are you?”

“Hey,” the man in the back protested. “I’m no kidnapper.”

“We kind of are,” the man in the passenger seat offered. “But we’re the nice kind.”

Seokjin gripped the steering wheel. He felt utterly baffled by what was happening, but still not scared, so he drove on.

In his mind he had been predicting these men taking him to some vacant warehouse to be interrogated. Or probably beaten up. Instead, he ended up parked in front of a rather normal looking house. The only indication that he was associating with what he had clearly determined to be either Pentagon, SF9, or Up10tion, were the men lurking around outside the house.

Before he got out of the car, Seokjin asked, “Is Jimin here? Why am I here? What’s going on?” He was well aware of the fact that his cellphone was still in his pocket, and nothing was playing out like he’d imagined.

This was a far, far different experience than anything he’d had with Infinite.

“Hui will answer all your questions,” the previous driver said. Then he urged, “The sooner you get out, the sooner you can have your answers.”

And what else was he going to do, really? Make a run for it? Leave Jimin behind?

“Who’s Hui?”

Before getting out of the backseat, the man said, “He’s the one who said to pick you up. I just do what I’m told, and you should too.”

The other man offered, sending Seokjin a deafening look, “I do what Jinhoo says.”

With his head spinning a little, Seokjin got himself out of the car, and then started up the stairs to the house.

This, Seokjin decided minutes later, was definitely what going crazy felt like.

They sat him in a living room that was deceptively bigger on the inside than it had looked from the out. And then, even more baffling, they served him a cup of tea.

“What is going on?” Seokjin asked, feeling a little dizzy, actually.

“You tell us,” a man said, coming to sit in front of Seokjin. Two more followed in short succession, and by the way the other men in the room were reacting, it didn’t take much to determine that these were the leaders of the Triad.

“Which one of you is Hui?” he asked, recalling the name from the car. “And Jinhoo?”

“Doctor Kim,” one of the men said, “I think we’ve been very, very gracious with how we’ve treated you over the past half hour. So how about you take a step back and let us ask the questions.”

Seokjin eyes narrowed. “Do you think I’m impressed that you haven’t been brutish thugs? I’m not.  I will be impressed when you yell me who you are, what you want, and where Park Jimin is.”

These men couldn’t be who’d ordered the attack in the apartment. It just didn’t make sense, not with how they’d been behaving, and the way they’d treated him. He would have bet anything they had nothing to do with the man who’d attacked him.

A laugh startled him.

“I’m Park Youngbin,” the man introduced. “I’m representing SF9 today. They’re my men. And I want to know why members of Bangtan are poking around in this area.”

Seokjin looked between the other two men and guessed, “Then you’re Hui and Jinhoo?”

They parted with their names easily enough, and Youngbin added, “You’re a long way from home, Kim Seokjin.”

“I’m here for a medical conference,” Seokjin said, not drinking the tea that had been provided to him, but enjoying the warmth of it wrapped around his fingers. It was terribly hot outside, but the house was modern enough that it had central air installed, and it was blasting at full strength. “But I think you already know that.”

“How?” Hui pressed.

Seokjin said simply. “Because you knew to come pick me up at the conference hall, and I’d bet my life that Jimin never would have told you where I am. He’d take that kind of information to his grave, and I mean that quite literally. So I think instead that you’ve been watching us since we got here yesterday. And that’s how you knew.”

Youngbin let out another laugh. “I asked around about you, Doctor Kim. I’m glad I haven’t been let down in the slightest.”

Seokjin wasn’t amused, and said, “When you pulled up in my car—I will be checking it for damage by the way—I was an hour or so away from leaving. So I want to know why I’m here.”

“I told you why,” Youngbin replied. “You want to know why you’re here, I want to know why members of Bangtan are poking around where they don’t belong.”

Seokjin did take a sip of the tea then, if only to calm his nerves.

“I’m not a member of Bangtan,” he said plainly.

Jinhoo seemed to allow, “You’re right in that regard I guess. But you might as well be considered a part of Bangtan. I have no doubt in my mind that you have more sway over Rap Monster than anyone else. After all, you share a bed with him.”

That, truly, seemed like the first hint of danger.

But Seokjin wasn’t one to be cowed.

“I came here,” he repeated, “for a medical conference. I registered for it nine months ago. So unless you think that I’ve had some master plan in the works for that long, considering your little get together hasn’t been active longer than four months, you should reconsider that I’m here as a spy.”

Jinhoo broke in, “No, we’re in agreement that we don’t think you’re spying on us. We know enough about you to be confident in that. But your friend? Park Jimin? We know for a fact that he’s here doing just that. And we think you know that.”

Seokjin wondered, “Does Rap Monster know that I’m here?”

He was testing the waters with that statement, and he was almost pleasantly surprised when Hui stated, “You still have your phone. Give him a call if you need to.”

This was a difference kind of game Seokjin was playing with these men, than the kind he’d played with Infinite.  And it felt like a better representation of what it ought to be like. No one was making any threats, and there was no untold behavior happening. But there was a demand for the truth, and there was a parrying of words that kept it very entertaining.

Seokjin didn’t feel ganged up on, but he asked all the same, “If you think Jimin came here to spy on you, why don’t you ask him?”

“He hasn’t been talking,” Jinhoo replied. “From the moment we caught him snooping around and asking the wrong questions to the wrong people, he clammed right up. So we thought we’d try our luck with you. He’s on his way here now, before you ask. And we think he’ll be a lot more talkative with you in the room.”

Seokjin guessed, “Then we’ll just sit here and wait?”

“Are you not going to talk either?” Jinhoo asked.

“I don’t have anything to talk about,” Seokjin said. “I came for my medical conference. I attended it. I don’t know anything. So ask the questions you want to ask, if it makes you feel better. But I can’t give you the answers I don’t have.”

Hui broke in, “You’re telling us that you had no clue that Park Jimin came here to do exactly what we caught him doing?”

In this, Seokjin knew he had to pick his words very, very carefully. He didn’t want to say anything that might get Jimin into any trouble that they might currently be able to get out of. And he needed to make sure Namjoon didn’t get dragged into anything.

Namjoon.

Oh, Namjoon was going to kill him.

Seokjin admitted, “I hear people talk. I hear members of Bangtan talk, but they don’t talk to me. Let me make that clear. I do my best to not get involved in those kinds of matters, and as a rule of thumb, unless I ask, they don’t tell.”

That wasn’t a lie, and he would stand by it. He very rarely asked, and almost no one volunteered anything. He only knew about Jimin because of the particular situation.

“I know,” Seokjin said slowly, “that this Triad business has been something of interest for Bangtan. I know both Bangtan and Exo have been very interested in what’s going on over here. But that’s a natural curiosity. And a preemptive one. Wouldn’t you want to know if a problem was building on the horizon? Wouldn’t you want to know if something unexpected was happening?”

Youngbin grinned at Seokjin. “Everything they say about you is true.”

Seokjin told them in an almost exhausted way, “This isn’t the first time I’ve heard that. It’s never comforting.”

After that, they waited.

And the wait was just as confounding as anything else, because instead of there being an awkward period of silence, Seokjin found himself being engaged in conversation by the three men still sitting in front of him.

At first, he’d thought they were trying to dig for answers in a subtler way, but it only took a few minutes for him to realize that they just genuinely wanted to talk to him. They were interested in what he thought of the city, and what kind of doctor he was, and if the stories about the momentous showdown between Exo and Bangtan and Infinite were even half as true as the rumors made it out to be.

The worst part was, he didn’t even realize he was enjoying himself until he was confronted with the truth of the situation. The truth, which naturally was that he liked the men in front of him. They were hard to read at first, and hard to get comfortable around, but they came off as good people, authentic, and not anything like Sunggyu had been—or even the leader of Seventeen.

Jimin got to the house just as Seokjin was explaining the difference between a CAT scan and PET scan. His arrival was punctuating by loud demands to know where Seokjin was, and threats of violence if anything had happened to him.

Seokjin was flattered, but after spending some time with the gangs that were represented in the room, he hardly thought anything of that nature was necessary.

“You’re here,” Jimin said when he locked eyes on Seokjin. Jimin practically slid across the hardwood floor in his haste to get to Seokjin’s side, and then dropped down low to ask, “Are you okay?”

“Are you? Seokjin returned. Jimin looked perfectly fine, but there was a big difference between physical damage, and the other kind that could occur.

Jimin’s face was terrible close as he said softly, “I didn’t tell them where you were. I didn’t tell them anything about you. They took my cell, obviously to lure you out.”

“No one is hurt,” Jinhoo said, looking between the two of them. “We’re not looking to start a new war, or even a conflict.”

With acid in his tone, Jimin spit out, “Then we’re free to get up and leave?”

“As soon as you answer our questions,” Hui said.

“We don’t have to answer anything!” Jimin snapped out.

Seokjin did not want to be responsible for starting something between Bangtan and another gang—let alone three other gangs. The three men in front of him seemed cool and collected. They weren’t hot headed or aggressive. So Seokjin believed that if they were treated with respect, or at least decency, this was something that didn’t have to spiral out of control.

Gently Seokjin put a hand on Jimin’s knee. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

Jimin gave him a sharp look of disbelief.

Just play ball, Seokjin wanted to urge him.

Looking even angrier, Jimin snapped back towards the three men watching them and said, “Fine. Ask what you want to ask.”

“And you’ll answer honestly?” Hui asked with obvious skepticism.

“As long as it doesn’t endanger Bangtan in any way,” Seokjin spoke up, “he will.”

Lowly, Jinhoo cut out, “And we have confirmation.”

“Confirmation?” Seokjin asked.

Youngbin said, “On who’s really running the show here.”

Seokjin didn’t know how to respond to that.

Apparently, Jimin didn’t, either.

But the questions started after that, and they were the kind Seokjin expected. They wanted to know why Jimin was looking to Triad affairs, who Jimin’s contact was, and what he’d learned so far.

“I’m not telling you who told me anything,” Jimin said smartly. “And everything else is none of your business, too.”

Trying to settle ruffled feathers, Seokjin offered up, “The way I understand it, Jimin was just curious. Gangs don’t really … play nice together. At least not very well. But the three of you have come together in an impressively cohesive way. When gangs integrate, one usually swallows another. But the three of you seem equal partners in this—whatever this is.”

“We are,” Hui said, almost with some pride in his voice. “We’re equal partners. Is that how it is for Bangtan and Exo?”

“You’re fishing,” Jimin said gruffly.

Seokjin reminded, “I don’t ask about the business negotiations between Exo and Bangtan. Maybe you should contract Rap Mon and ask him personally, if you’re interested. He does take calls, I assure you.”

“So,” Jinhoo asked, sharing a look with his two companions, “you’re telling us that you came down here to snoop around, because you think we’re planning something? You think it’s odd that we’re getting together? So you wanted to find out if we were planning to what, overtake you?”

Hui scratched at the back of his head. “You might want to take a look around. We’re holding our own just fine right now. But we’re in no position to try and move in on anyone else’s territory. Frankly, we’re not interested in that.”

Now Seokjin’s own curiosity couldn’t be contained. “You’re not interested in expanding?” Seokjin asked with disbelief. “Then why come together?”

Sipping at his own tea, Youngbin spoke when Hui nodded at him, “Can’t you entertain the idea that we came together for a greater good? Our individual territories were doing okay when we were separate. But together, quality of life improves greatly. So we decided that we had to put our people first. We chose to be better than what was expected of us.”

Seokjin was a little stunned.

“Bullshit,” Jimin said.

“You can take this back to your leader,” Jinhoo told Jimin. “You can tell him that this is the truth, and if he disputes it as such, he can come down here personally and talk to us. You tell him that we came together for a greater good. We came together because we want to prove that we can work together, and improve living conditions, and make the streets safe with peaceful solutions. And if anyone else wants to join in on this, we’ll take them. This is not limited to the three of us, we’re just the ones who started it. We won’t turn anyone always, and we won’t be starting any fights.”

“You’re stupid,” Jimin said, and Seokjin sighed. “You think you can just be friends and everything will work out perfectly?”

“No,” Hui agreed. “But I don’t think we have to spend our time fighting and dying for hostile takeovers that put everyone on shaky ground.”

Jimin shook his head. “This isn’t going to fly with the bigger gangs. They’re not going to let this happen. Because you’re small now, but what happens when you’re five gangs strong? Or six? What happens when you start to look like a threat, even if you say you aren’t. You’re going to start a new gang war regardless if you plan it that way or not.”

Youngbin said honestly, “We don’t think so. And we’re willing to wager a lot on that.”

“You’re crazy,” Jimin breathed out. “Some big gang is going to come right along and bulldoze you just to make a point.”

Jinhoo leaned forward. “Like Bangtan?”

“Not like Bangtan,” Seokjin cut in. “I can’t tell you what Rap Mon is thinking, or what direction he wants to take the gang in, but he’s not looking for conflict. He doesn’t want any more bloodshed. If anyone is coming for you, it won’t be Bangtan. We’ve had our fill of that.”

Shoulders slumping, Jimin agreed, “He’s right on that. Rap Mon will defend our territory and our people if trouble comes looking for us, but we’re not looking for it. We’ve sacrificed enough at this point. We’ve been through enough.”

“And that’s the truth,” Seokjin considered. “Believe us or don’t, but that’s the truth.”

Youngbin, who’d been the least aggressive, and that Seokjin liked the most of the three of them, said, “I believe you. Do you believe us?”

Jimin snorted, “I think you’re idiots, but yeah, I believe you.”

“Then you can leave,” Jinhoo said, gesturing at the door. “And feel free to inspect that car of yours. I promise you it’s in perfect condition. But I have heard that heads will roll if it isn’t.”

Jimin wasted no time getting to his feet. “Come on, Jin.”

Keys in hand, Seokjin stood up. But the adrenaline of the whole event was catching up with him, and he didn’t quite trust himself with the car. So he pressed the keys into Jimin’s hand and said, “You’re driving.”

“We don’t mind visitors,” Hui said, and all of them were standing then. “But how about you announce yourself next time. It’ll go over better, I think.”

“Will do,” Seokjin said shakily, and then Jimin was leading the way out of the house, and Seokjin was following.

At least until he got to the door, and then Youngbin was there, asking, “Can I speak to you for just a second, Doctor Kim? In private?”

Jimin’s face twisted up in protest.

“Just a minute,” Youngbin insisted.

“Jin,” Jimin warned.

Seokjin pushed at Jimin. “Go check the car, will you? Make sure there isn’t so much as a ding or a scratch on it. You know how I am about that car.”

It took a little more cajoling before Jimin looked like he was even willing to consider leaving him alone in the house. But eventually he was pushed out, and Seokjin ended up alone in a room with Youngbin.

Seokjin asked, “Shouldn’t the other two be here for this? You’re all equal partners, right?”

Youngbin’s head cocked a little and he said, “They like you enough that I know they’d be okay with me saying this to you. They’d be here stopping me, actually, if they didn’t. They know what I’m going to say to you now.”

“Which is?”

Youngbin suddenly looked nervous as he said, “Nothing we said in there is untrue. Why we came together? We did it just because we thought we could be better together, and because we care more about helping than hurting. I swear to you, that is not a lie.”

“But?” Seokjin edged.

“There’s something going on down to the south.”

“The south?” Seokjin wasn’t following. “Of here? Of Seoul? Of South Korea?”

Youngbin said, “Near the Busan area. We have some contacts down there, there’s been some strange chatter in the area.”

Seokjin frowned. “What do you mean by strange?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Youngbin said, looking apologetic. “Especially if you’re not used to what regular chatter between gang informants sounds like. But there’s definitely something going on down there. Something is off. Something feels bad. So yes, we’re together for a greater good. But we’re also together out of necessity. If that something bad makes it way up here, we’re going to be ready for it. You should be, too, because you’re in Seoul, so you’re closer.”

That seemed awfully considerate of Youngbin to say.

“Maybe it’s nothing,” Youngbin said with a considerate sigh, rubbing at his forehead. “Maybe this is an unnecessary worry. But just in case, watch out, okay? Ever since Big Bang retired, and Bangtan and Infinite started tearing each other apart, things have been odd. Everything has been unstable. And I can’t say what’s going to come of all of this, but I know what my gut says.”

“Watch out?” Seokjin echoed.

Youngbin nodded “It says watch out.”

Uncertain Seokjin asked, “Why tell me this? Why share? I’m not Bangtan, but I might as well be. You could be giving up tactically important information.”

“Other than the fact that I like you?” Youngbin laughed out. “And I think you’re pretty amazing, considering the shit you’ve had to put up with?”

Seokjin wasn’t going to be baited by flattery.

“Because,” Youngbin told him, “Bangtan is kind of setting a standard right now. The big question is, will Bangtan get thirsty and start tearing apart gangs? Or will Bangtan advocate for peace? So we’re thinking maybe we say this to you, we let you know there’s something happening down south, and Bangtan does the right thing with the information. No gang is really good. But some are better than others.”

Feeling suddenly defensive, Seokjin said, “Bangtan really is good.”

Youngbin gestured for him to exit the room and said, “I wouldn’t expect you to feel any differently.”

Jimin wasn’t waiting for Seokjin at the car like he’d expected. Instead Jimin was standing on the stoop to the house, surrounded by men who could have been called enemies if even one thing had gone wrong that day, scowling with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m still breathing,” Seokjin teased as he stepped down to where Jimin was.

“You joke,” Jimin said, gripping the car keys tightly in his palm, “but I’m the one who’ll get murdered if anything happens to you. And I just left you alone in a house with a bunch of guys we don’t trust, and would gain a lot from using you as leverage.”

Seokjin drifted to the car with Jimin in tow, saying, “Come on, fess up, you knew those guys weren’t going to hurt us from the start.”

“I knew nothing,” Jimin said sourly. “And neither did you. That’s why I’m so angry right now. You should be taking this a lot more seriously. That could have gone bad. That probably should have gone bad.”

They got in the car, Seokjin still more than happy to relinquish driving to Jimin. And then Seokjin said, “I think it was very apparent that they weren’t intending to do anything bad. They weren’t even rude to either of us. They treated us better than Bangtan would have treated them if the situation was reversed.”

“This,” Jimin said, starting the car, “this is where that bleeding heart of yours gets into trouble. There’s a time and a place to be a good person. This is not that time. Dealing with gangs? That’s never the time.”

Seokjin waved him off. “Don’t lecture me. Being nice is what got us out of there. Being nice is what got us information.”

“Information!” Jimin snapped the word out.

“Well,” Seokjin drawled. “Don’t you know what’s going on now? These gangs are pulling together on their own for their betterment. For the betterment of their communities. And not as a threat against Bangtan or anyone else.”

Seokjin could tell right away that Jimin didn’t believe what he’d been told. Or maybe it was that he didn’t want to believe. Bangtan had teamed up with Exo out of necessity, and while that partnership continued to be lucrative, it wasn’t ideal, and it hadn’t even really been a desire. It probably smarted something bad that other gangs had decided to do the same thing of their own volition, and without any horrible purpose behind it.

Seokjin asked, “What does your gut say about this?”

Jimin replied, “To never go anywhere with you again.”

“That is a dirty lie,” Seokjin said, starting to feel more at easy. He shifted in his seat towards Jimin and said, “I can read you like an open book, Park Jimin. I know this whole situation is bothering you because your gut ended up being wrong. And you don’t like that. But you’re only human, and your gut can’t be right a hundred percent of the time.”

Jimin insisted, “They’re hiding something.”

Seokjin really didn’t think so, and argued, “They were more open with us than they had to be. Admit it. It’s a long way back home, Jimin. Just admit it.”

“I’d rather eat dirt,” Jimin said, and that had Seokjin laughing.

“It won’t kill you to admit it,” Seokjin reminded. But he thought it was probably going to be a while before Jimin was able to confess that his gut had been wrong for once. Jimin seemed almost disappointed they hadn’t stumbled into trouble, which was just so Jimin Seokjin could barely deal with it.

They’d only driven a couple of miles, straight out of town, before Jimin asked, “What did that guy want to talk to you about?”

“Youngbin?”

“He was practically a baby,” Jimin said testily.

“You’re practically a baby,” Seokjin said, keeping his tone light. “You don’t like that he was soft spoken, and when he smiled, it reached his eyes.”

Jimin looked to him and asked, “Are you going to start waxing poetically about him?”

Seokjin only said in reply, “I liked him. He was upfront, but never aggressive. He was nice.”

Jimin mused, “There’s no way he’s the leader of SF9. No way.”

“Because he isn’t mean? Namjoon isn’t mean.”

“He didn’t have grit,” Jimin argued. “Trust me. I’ve been around a lot of gang leaders who fit their role, and they all had that something special. They all had that bite. And yeah, maybe Rap Mon is a good guy who doesn’t go out of his way to be an ass or do bad things. But he’s got bite to him. You saw that when someone tried to take you from him. But that Youngbin kid? He’s soft.”

Seokjin suggested, “Maybe he’s just a new breed of gang leader. One that doesn’t have to rule by violence. Or maybe he’s got someone in his gang like you.”

Jimin didn’t press the issue, and instead asked, “What did he say to you?”

Seokjin thought back to the conversation that had just barely passed. Youngbin had passed along a message to him. A warning. He’d told Seokjin about a rumbling that was happening in the south, and it felt like something meant for important people like Namjoon and Yoongi and Jimin to hear.

But if he told Jimin, Jimin was going to tell Namjoon. And if Namjoon knew, the whole story about them meeting with the Triad leaders would be exposed. Seokjin’s lie would be exposed.

What was better, he wondered. Keeping the lie in, or letting it out?

“Jin?”

“Sorry,” Seokjin apologized. “Just thinking.”

Jimin prompted, “What did that guy say to you that he didn’t want me to hear?”

“Something for Namjoon,” Seokjin said, trying not to lie as much as not tell the truth. “A warning for Namjoon.”

Jimin wondered, “Guess that means we’ll be telling him about our little adventure.”

“No, we will not,” Seokjin said, more instinctively than anything. He leaned forward and put his face in his hands, then said in a frustrated tone, “Or we will. I don’t know. If we don’t …”

“We’ll get our asses handed to us, on a strictly professional level,” Jimin said, “for withholding important information. Even if nothing came of this, we need to tell Rap Mon about what’s going on with this Triad. We need to tell him that by their account, there’s no threat—that they just want to hold hands and sing songs. Even you won’t be able to escape the kind of blowup that will come if we don’t tell him and he finds out. He’ll find out, too.”

“I know, I know,” Seokjin groaned.

But if they told him, Seokjin knew he’d have to admit to, and fess up to, breaking Namjoon’s trust. Namjoon trusted that Seokjin wouldn’t go sneaking around, and he trusted that Seokjin would say something to him if he knew someone else planned to do that very thing.

“I didn’t think this through,” Seokjin admitted. “Shit.”

Jimin burst out laughing at his profanity.

“This is not funny,” Seokjin insisted.

Jimin kept laughing. “Of course it is. You never swear. And now you’re getting upset over something that’s going to get my ass tanned, but you’ll probably just get yelled at for a couple of minutes. It’s not like Rap Mon is going to make you sleep on the sofa or something. You’re in a relationship, and he’s practically a puppy around you.”

But it wasn’t about that, Seokjin wanted to say. It wasn’t about the punishment or the repercussions. It was about the way Namjoon would look at him, once he realized the trust had been broken. It was about how Namjoon would think about the situation, and if he’d trust him in the future, and how Bangtan’s affairs might weigh down their personal relationship.

In the end, Seokjin knew himself. He knew he couldn’t keep lying to Namjoon’s face day in and day out.  He couldn’t go to bed next to someone he was lying to.

And there was something about the way Youngbin had passed the warning onto him. There’d been something in the tone of his voice that was pressing on Seokjin. Namjoon needed to know.

“I’m going to tell him.”

Jimin asked, “About our little adventure?”

“Oh, is that what we want to call it?”

The tension from earlier was clearly leaving Jimin as they got onto the highway, and it was nice to see him relaxing. It was even more telling to Jimin’s mood that he joked out, “I mean, we could call it us getting abducted and held against our will, but that won’t go over as well as the word adventure.”

“I agree.”

Seokjin rubbed at his temples and said, “I will tell Namjoon, okay? Just give me a second to figure out how I’m going to do that. Don’t say anything, okay? Let me be the one to do it.”

“Sure,” Jimin agreed easily enough. “If I tell him he might murder me for putting you in that position to begin with. If you tell him, he might just be thankful you’re okay.”

No, Seokjin very much doubted that.

On the subject of Namjoon, Seokjin took the time to text him and let him know that he and Jimin were on the road, and would be back in just a couple hours. The guilt was already mounting as he simply texted, but that seemed like a problem for another day.

When that was done, he let himself settle in for the drive back home. But as he replayed the events that had just happened, he couldn’t help saying, “Thank you, Jimin.”

“For what?” Jimin asked, looking younger than he was as the sun faded in the background and headlights from other cars lit up the interior of their own.

Seokjin switched on the radio lowly and said, “For having my back in there. You didn’t tell them who I was or where to find me. They knew because they watched us, but I know you would have never told them anything no matter what.”

“Of course I wouldn’t have,” Jimin said indignantly. “You can’t just say all that shit about us being brothers now, and think it doesn’t mean anything. I don’t turn my back on my family, Kim Seokjin. This isn’t about me thinking Rap Mon might kill me if I let anything happen to you, either. This is about us. So no, I would never have told them about you. I would never have put you in danger, regardless of what they threatened me with, or threatened to do to me.”

There, once more, Seokjin could see the cracks in the hard façade Jimin fought desperately to keep up. He could see the softness underneath, and the emotions that Jimin often pretended he couldn’t feel.

And for the first time since Jimin had confessed to having romantic feelings for him, Seokjin could see a real future for them as friends. He could see a future for them as brothers. He could see Jimin moving on, and loving someone else, and the two of them putting this completely behind them as time dulled out the past.

“Thanks all the same,” Seokjin said, and didn’t complain when Jimin turned up the radio to drown out any more conversation.

They made it home a little later than expected. Traffic hadn’t been bad at all, but they’d gotten held up with the Triad, and that had forced them to leave later than their timetable had mapped out. It grated under Seokjin’s skin simply because of how prone he was to keeping to a schedule, and maintaining a routine. But all in all, it could have been much worse, so he took the forty-five minute delay for what it was.

“And there she is,” Jimin remarked as they pulled up the front of Seokjin’s apartment. Jimin’s bike was still parked out front, where they’d left it a day previous, and no harm had come to it. Seokjin hadn’t expected anything else. There wasn’t anyone stupid enough in the neighborhood not to know whose bike it was, and what would happen if they touched it.

It was fully night as Jimin parked the car, and up on the second floor Seokjin could see the light in their apartment shining through the curtains.

“Want to come up?” Seokjin asked, popping the trunk as Jimin turned the car off. They rounded the car with synchronicity to pull their bags from the trunk.

Jimin leaned around Seokjin to lift a hand in greeting to one of Namjoon’s men coming around the corner, obviously patrolling the area.

“Nah,” Jimin said, tossing his motorcycle keys up into the air in an easy way. “I want to get home and crash—you know, make sure your brother hasn’t completely destroyed our apartment.” “I don’t know how you can even live with him,” Seokjin teased.

“Go on up,” Jimin said. “I’ll watch you from here.” He handed Seokjin’s car keys back to him. “Thanks for taking me along.”

Seokjin winked at him and asked, “What kind of road trip would this have been without a bratty younger brother fighting me about the music?”

“I’ll stick gum in your hair,” Jimin threatened, and then he jogged the short distance to his bike, secured his bag onto it, and started it up. He was popping his helmet onto his head as the apartment door on the second floor opened.

Seokjin could barely register the conscious decision to start up the stairs, but he was practically running by the time he got there, throwing himself into Namjoon’s warm arms.

“I missed you,” Namjoon breathed out into his hair. He held Seokjin a little tighter than he normally did, but it felt great. “I missed you a lot.”

Seokjin pressed his face into Namjoon’s neck and soaked in the smell of his cologne. It was faded from the morning’s application, but it was Namjoon’s smell. It was a smell that Seokjin would have been able to identify after a year apart.

“I’m happy to be home,” Seokjin said, barely having time to turn his head before Namjoon was kissing him firmly.

They were practically manhandling each other as they stumbled back into the apartment, and Seokjin was only too happy to let it go. They’d only been separated for a couple of days, but it suddenly felt like weeks or months.

They were supposed to be past the honeymoon phase in their relationship, but Seokjin was still as infatuated and desperate for Namjoon has he had been in the beginning.

Namjoon kicked the door shut behind them and Seokjin dropped his bag as he was pressed back up against the door, Namjoon’s mouth warm and welcomed on his own.

“You’d better tell me right now,” Namjoon said, hitching Seokjin up against the door in a way that created hot friction, “if you’re too tired for me to take you to bed. Or else that’s exactly where we’re going.”

When he said to bed, Seokjin knew he didn’t mean sleep.

“If you try and tuck me in,” Seokjin warned dropping his fingers to work at the top button on Namjoon’s jeans, “you shouldn’t bother joining me.”

“I missed you,” Namjoon said once more, kissing Seokjin so wholly that Seokjin felt lost in the kiss.

“I love you,” Seokjin returned, and then he clutched tightly to Namjoon as the strong man hurried him straight to their bedroom.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

In all fairness, Seokjin really had honestly been trying for days to tell Namjoon about what had happened at the conference.

That first weekend he’d been back, however, had been just a mess of bad circumstances happening all at once. Starting, naturally, with Moonbin coming down with a serious cold. That in itself would have been bad, because Moonbin had already proven himself to be near irreplaceable. But it was compounded by the fact that Moonbin was not only dating, but also living with Eunwoo. And Eunwoo had gotten his cold.

So over the weekend, when most of the surgeries were scheduled, and Seokjin really needed all hands-on deck, he was down one nurse, and the clinic’s anesthesiologist. And it had fallen on the receptionists to, in a mad scramble, rebook the surgeries, shuffle around the appointments, and then nearly have to start over when Hongbin had vomited all over the storage room and confessed that maybe he was feeling under the weather too, and yes, he did have a fever.

“This is not happening,” Jonghyun had seethed out lowly, standing at Seokjin’s side as they watched Yoona help Hongbin out to her car so she could take him home.

Seokjin had pointed out, “I highly doubt two of our doctors and maybe our best nurse all conspired to get sick together at the same time.”

Darkly, Jonghyun had said, “I know that. But this timing. It’s absolute shit.”

It was bad, primarily, because the following weekend was the clinic’s big block party. And it had been in the works for a long, long time. It had taken close to six months to get the permits necessary to close down the street right in front of the clinic, and half as long to line up venders willing to volunteer their time and services to the public.

But now, in just under a week, the clinic was set to launch its big educational extravaganza. At least that was what Seokjin was hoping it turned out to be. There’d be plenty of things to hook children’s attention, and to tempt families in, and while they were there, Seokjin planned to hit them with ways to stay healthy, endorsements for exercise, and an open forum for any questions about any medical topic.

And for that, they needed all hands on deck.

“We’ll be fine for next week,” Seokjin insisted. Maybe out of fear that any other suggestion might drive him crazy.

But being down a couple of important staff, meant they all had to hustle a little extra around the clinic, and the tiny little last minute details for the big party, kept Seokjin late at work.

Namjoon was understanding, like he always was, but it didn’t give them much free time together. And it didn’t give Seokjin any time to figure out the best way to tell Namjoon that he’d essentially lied to his face.

Though even if there hadn’t been a bug going around, and even if Seokjin hadn’t been working late hours, he knew that Namjoon was even more stressed than usual.

“Don’t tell him I said this to you,” Yoongi confessed to Seokjin Wednesday afternoon when they were catching lunch together. Seokjin’s lunches with Yoongi were his favorite, not that he wanted anyone else to know that. He never wanted to publicly play favorites. But Yoongi was calming, and straightforward, and liked to talk about more serious topics. He could engage Seokjin in a debate about politics or the economy, or weightier things that Jungkook and Taehyung and the others naturally shied away from.

Yoongi was a reality check in a lot of ways, and one that kept Seokjin’s feet on solid ground. When Yoongi came to lunch, it was like truly talking to an adult, whereas the others were a lot more easygoing and less severe.

“You tell me things you probably shouldn’t tell me all the time,” Seokjin had argued back. “Why would this be any different?”

Weighing the words, Yoongi had confessed, “I only tell you things because you’ve proven time and time again that you’re capable of keeping secrets. And because honestly, you influence Rap Mon more than you’ll ever know, so you might as well be in on the things going on when they’re important.”

Yoongi said that on Wednesday, but it reminded Seokjin of days previous, when he’d been meeting with the leaders of Pentagon, Up10tion, and SF9, and they’d said something along the same lines.

“Suho is driving Rap Mon up the wall,” Yoongi told him. “At first it was like playing a game of keep-away. Now Rap Mon spends most of his time dodging calls and lurking away when he knows Suho is in the area. It’s distracting him. It’s driving Rap Mon crazy. And I’m saying this to you because maybe you can do something about it.”

Seokjin knew Yoongi meant do more to relax Rap Mon, or talk him off a ledge, or just remind him that Suho was ultimately something fleeting, and not something that they’d have to worry about forever.

But Suho driving Namjoon up the wall, meant Namjoon staying out for prolonged amounts of time, and doing rounds in the neighborhood that he usually left up to the more junior members of the gang. It meant Namjoon finding things to distract himself with, and having less time for Seokjin.

So really, even if Seokjin had wanted to tell Namjoon about the Triad, it would have been impossible to do it without stressing him out further or creating more distance between them. Over the course of a week they barely slept in the same bed at the same time. And if Seokjin was going out for work, Namjoon was just coming in from it.

It wasn’t a good way to live, and it was hurting their relationship.

Which was why, on Friday, with Eunwoo, Hongbin and Moonbin all back at work, Seokjin was able to swing a half work day, and practically barricade himself and Namjoon in the apartment.

He put a tub full of flour in front of Namjoon, a bag of sugar followed, and Seokjin said, “We’re going to spend the next couple of hours making cookies, and you’re going to like it.”

It was a cheap move, admittedly. Namjoon didn’t really have much of a sweet tooth, but if there was an exception to that, it was cookies.

“I don’t know how to bake,” Namjoon confessed, standing behind him, tying the back of Seokjin’s apron closed. “My grandmother taught me her cooking recipes. But she wasn’t much of a baker, either.”

At the end, when the cookies were done, Seokjin told himself he’d tell Namjoon everything. And maybe he wouldn’t get the baking sheet thrown at him.

Or get left in a room with a couple dozen cookies going cold.

“I know how to bake—at least in a passable way,” Seokjin said, “and I’ll teach you. I know I tease you about being horrible at taking care of yourself, but you’re very smart. You learn quickly, and you take direction well. You’re more than capable of baking with me.”

Namjoon’s nose bumped the back of his neck in an affectionate way and he offered, “Or we can just go buy cookies?”

Seokjin questioned, “So you can sneak off and work.”

“Hey!” Namjoon shouted indignantly.

Seokjin turned then, catching Namjoon’s hands and holding them close. He said softly, “I know it’s not just you. I know it’s me, too. I work long hours sometimes, and I’m guilty of putting the clinic before you at times. That’s not right I know.”

Namjoon argued back right away, “I knew that you were a workaholic before we started dating. Don’t you remember? Your dad asked me, and it was a test—I know that now, he asked me if I could deal with seriously dating someone who was probably going to prioritize his job before his boyfriend.

In his father’s own way, Seokjin knew that the man had been trying to protect him. His father had been trying to run Namjoon off if he wasn’t serious enough about being in a relationship. His father had never been the kind to wait up for Seokjin to come home from a date, and he’d never given the shovel talk to anyone. But his father had cared. His father had worried. And his father had tested Namjoon before ultimately approving.

“I said I could accept that then,” Namjoon said, “and I still feel that way now.”

Namjoon’s words were a punch to gut, as they only served to remind Seokjin how lucky he’d gotten.

Seokjin released Namjoon’s hands and hooked his own around the man’s waist, pulling them flush. He felt the strength of Namjoon’s body against his own and offered up, “How long has it been since we went out and had a cup of coffee together? How long since we just took a walk together down by the river.”

Knowingly, Namjoon said, “Taking a walk out in the open isn’t safe for either of us.”

Seokjin sighed.

He missed having anonymity. He missed being able to sneak away with Namjoon for ice cream dates, and moments of privacy that made them feel like teenagers.

“We just went out to dinner,” Namjoon protested.

“That was a long time ago,” Seokjin reminded.  “Weeks and weeks ago. Namjoon, we’re both set enough in this relationship that we don’t need to keep it fresh to keep us interested in each other. But we have to start doing more together. We have to take moments for each other.”

Namjoon leaned into him a little boneless. It was probably only an excuse for him to sneak a kiss to Seokjin’s neck, but it was accompanied with the words, “I know. You’re right. So let’s make cookies.”

Seokjin forced himself to pull away from Namjoon, and instead he said, “You have to promise you won’t eat half the ingredients before we actually get them on the cookies.” He reached into the refrigerator and set the dairy items on the countertop.

Namjoon snatched up his own apron up and tied the strings behind him, stating, “I really don’t think you have to worry about me eating all the butter.”

To prove his point, Seokjin set down a bag of chocolate chips, M&Ms, and a bottle of sprinkles.

Namjoon gave an exaggerated inhale. “Has this been in our kitchen the whole time?”

“Of course it has,” Seokjin said, giving him a wink. “But I knew it was safe because you never come in here unless I’m with you.”

“It’s kind of scary how well you know me,” Namjoon remarked.

Seokjin nodded to the far cabinet. “Get down another bowl, please. Then we can get started.”

Namjoon’s height came in handy as he was able to pull down exactly what Seokjin requested, and got a small handful of chocolate chips as reward.

“We’re gonna get back on track,” Namjoon said, watching Seokjin carefully portion out the first serving of flour. “You’re right, of course. We’re going to start spending more time together. Even if it’s hard, and things are stressful right now, we’re going to get better at making time for ourselves. Got it?”

Seokjin countered, “Sounds good.”

In hindsight, it was probably a miracle they got as far into the cookies as they actually did.

The first batch of cookies were in the oven by the time the pounding came at the door. And they were working on the second, which Seokjin intended to go to Jungkook and Jimin—particularly Jimin, when the truth came out and Namjoon probably tried to strangle the life out of him.

Seokjin had just begun to broach the subject, saying, “I wanted to talk to you about something. About when I went to the conference,” when the interruption sounded.

After the pounding came, there were only a few seconds to brace for the door being thrown open, and then Taehyung was invading the apartment without even bothering to take his shoes off. That’s how Seokjin knew it was serious.

“What is it?” Namjoon asked, already wiping his hands on his apron before shucking it off.

“Don’t you dare,” Seokjin warned, leveling a finger up at Taehyung.

Taehyung gave him a look of apology, but said, “I’m sorry, Jin, but this is serious. Rap Mon, Suga said to get you. There’s been another sighting.”

Seokjin leveled out again, “Don’t you dare do this to me, Taehyung.”

“It’s Myungsoo,” Taehyung said, looking past Seokjin to Namjoon. “Suga thinks we just barely missed him last time, but we’ve got him cornered this time!”

Seokjin put his elbows on the countertop and pressed at his temples. It was as if the universe was conspiring against him.

“Jin,” Namjoon said in his ear. “You’re going to be safe.”

It took him a moment to realize that Namjoon was likely having a flashback of some kind to the last time there’d been a spotting of Myungsoo in Bangtan’s territory. When Namjoon had been lured out and Seokjin had been attacked.

Taehyung interjected, “Suga called a bunch of guys in to watch the place. And Hoseok is on his way over now just as added insurance. But Rap Mon we gotta go now.”

Seokjin felt Namjoon’s hand clamp down on his wrist. “I will stay,” Namjoon vowed. “If you don’t feel safe, and if you don’t want me to leave, I won’t.” Taehyung was making a sound of protest in the background, but Namjoon held his ground.

This was something Namjoon needed to do. Infinite’s Dongwoo and Myungsoo were still free, and still had all the potential in the world to do damage to Namjoon and Bangtan. Not to mention catching the two of them had turned into something of an obsession for Namjoon. Seokjin didn’t think Namjoon would ever be able to truly relax until he knew the two of them were really gone.

“Go,” Seokjin urged. It seemed like his confession was going to have to wait yet again. “You need to catch him.”

Still, Namjoon hesitated, and it told Seokjin right away how rattled Namjoon was about the attack.

“You need to catch him,” Seokjin said firmly, nudging Namjoon towards Taehyung. “And I’ll be perfectly safe here with Hoseok. You trust Hoseok, don’t you?”

Namjoon pressed a hard kiss against his mouth, promised to return as quickly as he could, and then he was charging out with Taehyung after one of Infinite’s last members.

Seokjin stood there in the kitchen, with flour caked under his fingernails, and felt left behind.

Hoseok, however, was there less than five minutes later. He knocked politely on the front door, and didn’t let himself in with the key Seokjin knew he had. Hoseok was typically considerate like that.

“You don’t have to be here,” Seokjin told him, letting Hoseok into the cool apartment from the suffocating heat outside.

“Of course—” Hoseok started, then his eyes went wide and he demanded, “are you making cookies?”

Seokjin looked down at all the tell-tale signs on his apron, and realized the smell of baking cookie dough was wafting through the house.

“Come on,” Seokjin said, gesturing for Hoseok to follow him. “One batch is in the oven, but we can finish the second.”

Hoseok drifted behind him dreamily and asked, “Are you sure you aren’t perfect? You seem perfect at his point.”

Seokjin thought about what Namjoon’s face was going to look like when he told him the truth, when he told him he’d brought Jimin along not for protection, but to snoop around, and against Namjoon’s wishes, and said, “I’m definitely not perfect.”

“If I didn’t already love Tae,” Hoseok said, “I’d totally have the hots for you.”

“Or just my baking skills,” Seokjin pointed out.

“And your cooking. Don’t short change yourself.”

Seokjin laughed a little and it went a long way to making him feel less alone.

They were halfway through the second batch of cookies when Seokjin asked, “Do you think Myungsoo is really out there?”

Hoseok fitted M&Ms carefully onto the tops of some shaped cookies and said, “Of course he’s out there. Him and Dongwoo. Hell, Hoya’s a threat still and he’s locked up.”

Seokjin flicked a M&M at Hoseok. “You know what I mean. Last time … last time he was just playing with you guys, right?”

“That’s the theory,” Hoseok confessed. “I mean, there’s no heavy evidence proving that what’s left of Infinite sent that guy after you, but it lines up too perfectly not to be the case. We all think that Myungsoo was the bait to lure Rap Mon out, and that guy was meant to enact some kind of revenge for Sunggyu.”

Seokjin drawled out, “So do you think that’s happening again in some way?” He half expected his front door to be kicked down again. He had Hoseok with him right now, and though Hoseok was all smiles and kindness most of the times, he could be a beast when pressed. All men were capable of certain things when pressed.

“No.” Hoseok didn’t hesitate. “Dongwoo comes off as an idiot, but he isn’t. And Sunggyu might have been the brains of the operation, but Myungsoo is clever. They’d never try the same trick twice. I think this is genuinely just good luck on our part. I think the spotting is real, not an ambush of some kind, and I think we have a real chance of taking him down tonight. At least that’s what’ll happen if Rap Mon gets to him.”

Seokjin kneaded out some dough and mused, “I don’t get why they’re sticking around. They’re beaten. They’re in shambles. But they’re staying in a territory that’s overrun with their enemy, and there’s no chance of them getting any of their power back. Eventually they are going to get caught. Why not just leave and go someplace safe?”

“Pride,” Hoseok seemed to guess. Then he shook his head and said, “No, this isn’t about pride. It’s about revenge. It’s got to be. That’s the only powerful enough motivator. I don’t think Dongwoo and Myungsoo are looking to save their lives. I think they’re just looking to take yours.”

“Excuse me?” Seokjin dropped a bit of dough. It landed on the countertop, but it was a telling action.

Hoseok blushed a little in an embarrassed way. “Not just you! Sorry, Jin. I guess you, too, but I meant that they’re looking to take out anyone associated with Rap Mon. It’s about taking people down with them, now, who hurt them. So it could be you, or it could be me, or Rap Mon himself. Who knows when they’ll be satisfied, but I think revenge is the only thing on their mind right now.”

“They should just cut and run,” Seokjin said, retrieving the dough.

“Would you?” Hoseok asked. “If someone had killed the person you loved, would you just let that stand?”

No. Seokjin knew that emphatically. If Namjoon or Jungkook had been killed by Infinite, and Bangtan had lost, he wouldn’t be able to just let it go. He wouldn’t be out prowling the streets with a gun, of course, but that wasn’t something that could be let go easily by any normal person.

Bouncing a little in place, Hoseok said, “Let’s just keep positive, okay? We’re here making cookies that are going to be awesome, and everything is going to work out just fine.”

That was a little delusional, but Seokjin liked the optimism. He liked the idea that he’d mostly have to stop looking over his shoulder if the last members of Infinite were exposed. And he liked that Namjoon would probably sleep better at night if that happened, and worry less.

“I think,” Seokjin said, drifting to the cabinet, “I have some raisins and oats in here. How do you feel about oatmeal-raisin cookies?”

The timer on the over sounded and Hoseok hopped down from the stool he’d been sitting on to fetch them, saying, “Jungkook told us once you’re a stress baker. A stress cooker, too. He said you can get yourself going, especially when you’re on your own, and work through everything you have in your cabinets.”

Seokjin grimaced a little and admitted, “I once made enough songpyeon for Chuseok to feed everyone in the building Jungkook and I lived in.” He’d been stressed, of course, worried that their father had been called into work by a developing emergency situation, and Seokjin had been torn over the idea of not spending Chuseok with his family. By the time he’d realized how much he’d made, Jungkook had already spent five minutes rolling back and forth across the floor as he laughed himself sick.

“Stop stressing,” Hoseok urged. “Everything is going to work out. Suga’s out there, too. And the others. They’ll make sure Rap Mon’s back is watched, and if we’re lucky, they’ll bag a baddie. Then things can get back to normal.”

“Things will never be normal.” Yoongi had told him once that when he was in, he was in. Yoongi, rightfully so, had said that his decision to stay by Namjoon’s side, meant that he would forever be caught up in the conflict that Bangtan naturally created, and there would never be an end. He accepted that, but it was heavy thing to constantly think about.

“Normalish,” Hoseok tried. “And yes, I love oatmeal-raisin. Let’s make that next.”

Namjoon didn’t come home by the time Seokjin was set to go to bed. But Hoseok was still in the apartment, and no one had gotten an emergency call of any kind, so it seemed like things just happened to be progressing at a slow rate.

“I’ll wait up in the living room,” Hoseok said, tucking his legs under him and reaching for the remote.

At that point Seokjin had already taken a shower and changed into his night clothes. Mountains of cookies were laid out in the kitchen, and some were boxed up for delivery. And the time was getting very late.

“You don’t need to,” Seokjin insisted. “I think that if someone was going to burst in here again, it would have already happened.”

Hoseok flashed him a peace sign. “Nice try. But if I were the bad guys, I’d be waiting around for someone like me to leave you alone. And Rap Mon said not to go anywhere until he got back. So I’ll be waiting out here. I’ll keep the volume low on the tv, okay? I don’t want to disturb you.”

Seokjin told him, “I have to get up early tomorrow morning. Tomorrow is the last day to prep before the event on Sunday.”

“I’m still coming!” Hoseok promised. “My sisters are, too. I’m excited for you to meet them.”

It really seemed like both Namjoon wasn’t set to come home before the AM hours, and neither was Hoseok going to budge on his orders not to leave until that happened. So Seokjin said, “If you get hungry later on, help yourself to whatever you want. But Hoseok, don’t gorge yourself on cookies.”

Indignantly Hoseok said, “I’m not a child, Jin.”

Seokjin shrugged. “That’s what Jungkook said before he at three dozen cookies and made himself so sick he spent the entire night in the bathroom. And let me clue you in, he wasn’t just vomiting.”

Hoseok went pale. “Message received loud and clear.”

Smothering down a laugh, Seokjin turned from him, and went to bed.

Namjoon wasn’t there in the morning when Seokjin woke, but neither was Hoseok. Instead Jungkook was in the kitchen, making his way through a plate of cookies, looking just tired enough to indicate he’d been out late last night, too.

“I hope you remember what happened the last time you ate too many cookies,” Seokjin said, swinging into the kitchen to start some morning coffee.

“That was only once!” Jungkook protested.

“Once should have been enough for you to learn your lesson.” Seokjin set the coffee pot and asked, “Did my boyfriend come home at all last night, or did you just swap babysitting duty with Hoseok?”

“Not babysitting,” Jungkook said, and pushed his plate of cookies away. “And yeah, Rap Mon came back here last night. I was with him. Actually, it was like three this morning. He wanted a change of clothes, and he wanted to check on you.”

A change of clothes? That didn’t sound good.

“I take it things didn’t go well last night?”

Jungkook’s shoulders fell. “It was definitely Myungsoo, but …”

But, Seokjin inferred, he wasn’t caught.

“Well,” Seokjin said, taking two mugs down from the cabinet, “if you didn’t catch him, is that why Namjoon isn’t home right now? Is he still out there trying?”

“No.” Jungkook shook his head. “Myungsoo slipped through our fingers. There’s no running him down now. Rap Mon’s out there now trying to figure out why he keeps getting away. He’s good, but he’s not this good, and we’ve got eyes everywhere. But he keeps slipping in and out without being caught.” Jungkook shot Seokjin a sorry look. “Rap Mon wanted me to apologize for him.”

Seokjin wondered, “For running out on me last night? Or not being here today?”

Jungkook gnawed down on his bottom lip.

A quick look at the clock across the room told Seokjin he had plenty of time that morning, so instead of taking his frustrations out on Jungkook, he asked, “Are you hungry? For some actual food? How about I make us breakfast?”

“Can I have a rice omelet?” Jungkook said, voice dropping more into a pleading territory.

“If there’s any eggs left over from yesterday,” Seokjin teased, knowing full well there was just enough left for a couple of omelets.

Jungkook made a beeline for the refrigerator, and Seokjin got started on the rice.

The only good thing about not having Namjoon there that morning, was that instead he got a nice morning with his brother. It was an uninterrupted kind of morning, too, because it was Saturday, so the clinic opened an hour later than usual, and Jungkook didn’t have any responsibilities until much later in the afternoon.

That meant getting to sit and talk with Jungkook, and catch up with him, and simply enjoy his brother’s company.

And Jungkook was his best friend. Maybe that was odd for a person to say about their brother, especially with the age gap between them, but it was true. He joked around that Jonghyun was his best friend, and that was true in a professional and personal sense, but Jungkook really superseded all classifications.  Jungkook was the person Seokjin trusted the most on the planet, and the person that he would always cherish and love above all others.

On the way out the door, with Jungkook swinging Seokjin’s bag around aimlessly while Seokjin locked up, Jungkook said, “I’m really looking forward to that thing tomorrow, actually. It’s gonna be fun. I can tell.”

“I’ll take it just going over well,” Seokjin said, but he shared a grin with Jungkook. “But yes, I’m kind of crossing my fingers it’ll be fun, too. At least I’ve got a better chance of it happening if you’re there.”

Jungkook handed his bag back to him as they went down the stairs to the first floor. “Flattery,” he chirped out, hopping down the steps.

Seokjin couldn’t help saying, “Stop getting full of yourself. You know you’re charismatic. You know you have a friendly face, and you get along well with children, and you know people instinctively trust you. This big event on Sunday isn’t just about raising medical awareness. It’s about exposing parts of the community, parts that used to belong to other gangs, to Bangtan. And I need someone there who’s going to make people feel safe.”

“So not Suga or Jimin, then,” Jungkook said.

Seokjin unlocked the car parked a short distance away and said, “No, they have to come, too. All the major player in Bangtan have to be there. I want my patients and the members of this community to know who you are. I want them to know what you look like, and what you stand for, and I want them to hopefully figure out that you’re good people who only want to help. Even the scary looking ones.”

In disbelief, Jungkook said, “I can’t believe Jimin’s going. He hates people. He hates smiling even more.”

“I don’t know if he’ll smile,” Seokjin admitted. “But he promised he’d be there, and that is a good thing. He’d probably just sit up in that apartment of his all day long if everyone let him. He’s not antisocial, he’s just very good at pretending he is.”

Jungkook shrugged. “I still don’t think he likes people. In general, I mean. Strangers.”

Seokjin thought Jimin probably just didn’t like what they represented to him. Or what kind of threat they had the potential to be.

Opening the door to the car so he could put his bag in, Seokjin asked, “Do you want to come down to the clinic with me today?”

Jungkook’s own car was parked just down the street, and Seokjin could see it from where he was standing. But Jungkook could easily leave it there for days on end, maybe even unlocked, and not have to worry. The neighborhood was quiet and safe for the most part, and Jungkook came around frequently enough that people knew it was his car.

“Why?” Jungkook asked. He frowned darkly. “Did one of your interns call in? I’m not getting suckered by you again. You promised me I’d be doing something important if I helped out one day. You made me clean toilets.”

Seokjin leaned a little on the car and laughed. “You did help. You were invaluable. Everyone who used that bathroom afterwards said it was sparkling clean.”

“No,” Jungkook leveled out. “You tricked me and you know it.”

“I bought you dinner after,” Seokjin told him. “And you got paid for your work. Plus, no one forced you to do it. Stop playing the martyr.”

Jungkook, not amused, said, “Like I had a choice. If I tried to get out of that you’d probably give me a sad puppy dog look and guilt me about it every time you saw me after.”

“Actually,” Seokjin said, “I thought you might want to come down to the clinic today because Yunho is going to be there.”

“Yunho.” Jungkook asked, suddenly looking a lot more interested. “He’s back?”

Seokjin said, “Of course he’s back. Jungkook, he didn’t leave because he wanted to, he left because he had a great career opportunity, and everyone deserves the right to peruse their dreams. He’ll be back for this Sunday’s event, and I think that’s only fitting, don’t you? He and Jonghyun and I really got the clinic off the ground, and we kept it up by ourselves for a long time. This Sunday isn’t just about informing the public, or Bangtan. It’s also about celebrating how far the clinic has come.”

“How long is he in town for?”

Seokjin couldn’t say for sure. “He didn’t tell me, but I got the feeling it’ll be at least a couple of days. He got in early this morning, and he said he’d come by the clinic this afternoon to say hi to some of us. And then I know for sure he’ll be there tomorrow. You could ask him yourself about how long he plans to be town I you want.”

Jungkook seemed to be resolved to something before he said, “If he’s going to be there tomorrow, then I’ll talk to him then. I don’t have time to study on Sunday for this test I have on Monday, so I have to do it today.”

Seokjin made a show of clutching at his heart. “You’re actually choosing to go home and study for a test you have to take?”

“Hardy-har,” Jungkook said dryly.

“Don’t do this to me,” Seokjin continued. “My heart is weak.”

“Then you’re just going to die when you see my grades,” Jungkook said with bravado, nose up in the air. “I’m bringing back perfect marks. Perfect.”

“How about just do your best,” Seokjin said. “You’re very smart, Jungkook. You always have been. But I don’t want you to take away the enjoyment you’re getting out of college right now by forcing yourself to get perfect grades. As long as you try your best, and work hard, you’ll be fine.”

Jungkook exhaled. “I hope you’re right. Mandarin isn’t as hard as I thought it would be, but it isn’t easy, either. And the professor is a real stick in the mud when it comes to conjugation.”

Jungkook was heading towards his car when Seokjin called out, “I’ll say hi to Yunho for you then, and tell him you’ll stop by and talk to him tomorrow.”

Jungkook waved, and then Seokjin got in the car and shut the door. He watched Jungkook walk the distance down to his car, and though it really was a shame that Jungkook wasn’t better suited for school. He really was smarter than average. And his capacity to retain knowledge was impressive. If Jungkook had drive for the sort of thing, he could have been everything their father had always wanted.

But the idea of Jungkook in a suit and tie every day for the rest of his life, parked behind a desk or a podium, was so unfitting.

Even if Jungkook was potentially squandering away a successful future, Seokjin wanted him to be happy, and like he’d argued with his father, that was all that mattered.

Yunho came by the clinic in the early afternoon. Because the clinic was set to close the following day for the big event, Seokjin had made sure to have all doctors and nurses on deck. They were stuffed to the brim with employees and patients, and Seokjin was loving every chaotic, rushed, packed minute.

Of course in his rush to see as many people as possible, and fit in a couple of minor surgeries, he missed Yunho’s arrival.

He didn’t even know Yunho was in the building until Seokjin was smudging his name off the white board that had listed him as being in surgery later that afternoon. His patient had called in to reschedule, and Seokjin planned to spend the time seeing walk-ins instead now.

Behind him, with nothing but warm fondness in his voice, Yunho said, “They told me there was some hotshot doctor in some fancy clinic making waves, but I had to come see for myself.”

Yunho’s arms were familiar and captivating as his longtime friend caught Seokjin up in a massive hug.

“Yunho,” Seokjin breathed out, taking in the tan on Yunho’s face, and the happiness radiating from him. “You look so good.” Yunho looked better than good.

“What,” Yunho said, “you had to wait until I was gone to go get yourself an upgrade like this?”

“Had to?” Jonghyun said, standing to the side with his arms crossed and an amused smile on his face, “I made him.”

Yunho told them both fondly, “You’re doing so amazing here. I’m happy for you.”

“We know we’re doing amazing,” Jonghyun said. “But you know you’re dying to tell us how incredible you’re doing. Come on, we’ll even pretend to care.”

For a moment some time ago, Seokjin had wondered if the relationship between Yunho and Jonghyun could be saved. They’d essentially wrecked their friendship by the way in which Yunho’s departure had come out.  And such a thing would have broken Seokjin’s heart. Because the three of them really had been everything to the clinic for a time. The three of them had put their everything in to the clinic. And it had only worked in the beginning because of the bond they’d shared.

But then slowly, slowly, even before Yunho had left, Seokjin had seen tiny bits of hope appear that they might repair their friendship. After all, Jonghyun hadn’t been mad that Yunho was leaving. He’d only been upset in the way it played out and the deceit involved.

They managed to squeak out fifteen minutes of absolute peace to talk.

Yunho insisted that he wanted to drift around the clinic for some time and talk to people when they had availability, but it was important to Seokjin that they got to have some private time.

“Are you at least happy?” Jonghyun asked when the three of them were holed up in one of the recovery rooms. It was empty and was expected to remain that way for some time, so Seokjin wasn’t worried about them contaminating the room in any way.

“I’m really happy,” Yunho said, and the truth was in his tone. “I’m getting to work on some really hard-hitting stuff—things that I never dreamed I’d have the opportunity to access before. I’m getting tested, and I think that’s what I really wanted the most. I feel like I’m a resident again, staying up all night, looking through books and journals, and calling up other people in the field whose opinions I trust. It’s invigorating in a way. It’s definitely humbling.”

Jonghyun said, “I had enough being a resident when I was resident.”

“I said it was like being a resident,” Yunho pointed out. “But without having to be the person to fish out all of the stupid things from patients that people always manage to swallow.”

Seokjin had a good laugh over that. He’d pulled a number of items from patients when he’d been younger and just flexing his medical skills. It really could get impressive, the kinds of things people succeeded in getting down.

“But I’m happy to visit,” Yunho made sure to say.

In voice that sounded serious, but was just Jonghyun teasing, the man said, “I suppose you should be here for this big event tomorrow. I mean, you were in on the ground level.”

Yunho snorted. “I was in on the day the electricity cut out because we mixed that bill up with the water bill.”

“Good memories,” Jonghyun chuckled.

Seokjin said, “We’ve got a spot for you here any time you want it.” He knew it was never going to happen, but he wanted Yunho to know. “If you want to take a break from what you’re doing, or just pitch in for however long, we’ll have you in a second.”

Jonghyun grumbled a little as he said, “We owe you one, okay? People weren’t exactly jumping to help us when Seokjin was pitching the idea. But you signed on knowing it was going to be tough, and you didn’t care that some of our colleagues were less than professional in what they said in response to your choice.”

Jonghyun had been the first to come on. It had been him and Seokjin for some time, before the clinic had real footing and even opened. And it had been beyond terrible trying to talk someone else into helping. They’d needed a minimum of three, but a third seemed to be an impossible task. At least until Yunho had given them the time of day, listened to their pitch, and signed on less than a day later.

“We do owe you,” Seokjin agreed.

“Actually,” Yunho said, looking between them. “If you want to let me cash in a favor, I’ve got one to ask you.”

“Shoot,” Jonghyun offered.

“I’m not here in Korea alone,” Yunho said.

Seokjin asked, surprised, “Have you finally started dating? You’ve realized you can’t be married to your work?”

Yunho replied, “No one has proven I can’t be married to my work. I’m waiting for the proof. And no, I didn’t bring a significant other. I brought my cousin.”

Jonghyun looked as surprised as Seokjin felt. “Your cousin?”

“My American cousin,” Yunho pointed out. “His mother is my mom’s sister, so he’s half-Korean, and he lives in L.A. I brought him with me because my Aunt practically begged me to. In the states, the school year is over for the summer, and grades have come in.”

“Not good?” Seokjin guessed by the expression on Yunho’s face.

“Terrible,” Yunho said. “The kid barely passed most of his classes that actually require you to use your brain. Now, he’s not stupid, and he can apply himself, he just doesn’t like to. Not when he can hang out with his friends, and spend more time studying his lines in drama class, than working out equations in calculus. My Aunt asked me to bring him with me for my stay in Korea to try and talk some sense into him.”

“Just how long are you going to stay?” Seokjin wondered.

Yunho told him, “Several weeks. A month, really. I’ve got a break in my schedule right now, and I want to see some family I haven’t been around in a long time.”

Curiously, Jonghyun asked, “So what’s the favor?”

“My cousin is a good kid,” Yunho stressed. “He has a good heart. He’s just an only child, he got spoiled for way too long, and he’s used to doing what he wants, when he wants.  So I want to get some sense into him while he’s with me, and show him that even if you don’t want to do something, sometimes you have to. He needs to figure out what a responsibility is, what an obligation is, and he needs to learn how to prioritize properly.”

Seokjin nodded. “Okay, but you haven’t said what the favor is. You want us to talk to him?”

Yunho looked smug. “I want you to work him to the bone.”

“Huh?”

Yunho leaned back in his chair. “He’s under the impression that he’s here as some kind of reward for getting through the year. He thinks he’s going to have a fun time here, and hang out with family, and do some shopping. But I want him to intern at the clinic. I want him cleaning toilets, scrubbing floors, changing bedpans, and doing all the icky stuff that definitely builds character.”

Laughing, Jonghyun asked, “How old is this kid?”

“Sixteen,” Yunho said, “so feel free to run him through the ringer. I’ll take him back at the end of every day, but I want him in here every morning, suffering every day until he can learn to follow rules and do things even if he doesn’t want to.”

“A free intern,” Jonghyun said in disbelief. “That’s still you doing us a favor. We’ll never say no to free labor.”

“You say that now,” Yunho reprimanded.

Seokjin winced. “Is he a terror?”

Yunho laughed then. “He’s a teenager.”

All the same, Seokjin and Jonghyun both agreed to take Yunho’s cousin on for as long as the man wanted. And then Seokjin asked, “Well, do you want a tour?”

“Of course he does,” Jonghyun said. “Our clinic is amazing.”

Yunho grinned and said, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask forever. I even got my special badge on.” He flicked the badge that was clipped to his shirt, but frowned at it and read upside down, “Who’s Kim Taehyung?”

Teasingly, Jonghyun said, “One of Jin’s boyfriend’s little friends. You know the kind. Big britches. Bigger ideals.”

Yunho’s eyes lit with humor. “Still associating with those types of people?”

“Hah!” Jonghyun broke out. “He’s gonna marry one of those people any one of these days.”

Seokjin palmed at his fore head. “Didn’t you want a tour?”

“You forgot about this, didn’t you?” Yunho ribbed. “You forgot how Jonghyun and I used to team up against you.”

“I never missed it for a second,” Seokjin said, but that was a lie. He’d missed everything about Yunho.

“So, tour?” Yunho asked, giving him a reprieve.

“The tour,” Seokjin agreed. “Let’s start on the ground floor.”

“We sure did,” Jonghyun said.

Having Yunho there in that moment, made Seokjin feel complete in a way he hadn’t in a long time. And it was a magnificent feeling.

“This way,” Seokjin said, gesturing for Yunho to follow him.

Yunho followed.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

There were some days when coming to work was just a chore. And it didn’t matter that he was the rare breed of person who actually liked their job. It didn’t matter that his clinic meant everything in the world to him, or that being a doctor gave him a sense of purpose.

There were some days when it was just a job.

But there were others day, like today, when Seokjin was so in love with what he did, that he could hardly believe this was actually his job.

“Doctor Kim!” a young, squeaky voice wailed out, “Doctor Kim help!”

“Help with what?” Seokjin asked in a playful way, kneeling down next to a boy who’d barely graduated out of his toddler years. He caught the boy around his waist and leaned in close to survey the hands the boy was holding out for him. “Everything looks fine.”

The boy, who was too adorable and definitely knew it, scrunched up his face and protested, “Too icky!”

“Too icky?” Seokjin gasped in a shocked way. His hands slid to the child’s arms and he bellowed out, “That’s not icky. I’ll show you icky!”

There were peals of laughter in the air as Seokjin dumped the boy’s hands back into the trough of glittery solution that was staining everything in the designated area. The white coat that Seokjin had started off in, was absolutely ruined, but Seokjin thought it had died for a good cause.

“Noooooo!” the boy wailed, but he was part of the roar of laugher that was echoing from the station, and he wasn’t exactly fighting Seokjin as he dunked his hands in and out of the glittery solution that felt more like less concentrated Jell-O.

The station was filled to the brim with children, as young as two, and as old as twelve or thirteen, and their parents were standing off to the side, some of them barely paying attention, and some of them loving the scene.

It was the boy’s mother who called out to him first, stating, “You’re spoiling him, Doctor Kim! He’ll think he gets to be this messy all the time.”

“Messy, messy!” some of the other children started chanting.

Seokjin got to his feet, put his hands on his hips and said, “Messy is just fine, when the situation calls for it.” The children seemed to take his words for holy gospel, and he felt like he was suddenly punched in the gut over his desire.

He’d always known he wanted children. He’d known he wanted children since he was old enough to understand all of the responsibilities that came with the title of parent. He’d practically raised Jungkook, too. At least in a lot of ways that counted.

But more and more, children seemed to be invading his thoughts. He certainly didn’t want one anytime soon, he wanted to focus on his clinic still, and on building his relationship with Namjoon. But he thought regularly now about what his and Namjoon’s family could look like one day. He thought about the number of children he might want, or the gender, and found himself daydreaming about school plays, vacations, birthday parties, and everything in between.

His paternal clock was definitely ticking, and though there were a lot of other, much more important things he needed to sit down and talk with Namjoon about, their family needed to be up there eventually.

Namjoon talked a lot about their future together. He talked about them growing old, and being the real deal in terms of their love. But he never talked about children. Did that mean he didn’t want them? Or were they just so far off in the future that he wasn’t stopping to consider them?

Seokjin wondered if they were only on the forefront of his own mind because of his health. His health tended to be a catalyst for everything, and the younger he had children … the more … the more time he could have with them before something catastrophic happened.

“Doctor Kim?”

A small hand tugged on his white coat and Seokjin knelt back down to be eye level with a little girl. He’d seen her a couple of times and recalled that six months ago she’d had chickenpox, and that her mother was one of the parents more interested in their phone than their child.

“What is it?” he asked gently, rubbing a hand along her back. The way she leaned into his touch told him everything. She was definitely touch starved, and probably attention desperate as well.

With some hesitation, she said, “Mommy says getting dirty is bad.”

Seokjin scooped her up into his arms and bounced her a little, not caring a bit if she got his clothing even more dirty. She shrieked with joy and Seokjin told all of the watching children, not just her, “There’s a time and a place for everything, isn’t there? Sometimes you have to stay nice and clean, like when you’re going to school, or church, or somewhere important. But there are times when it’s okay to be dirty, like right now.”

The little girl in his arms, feet swinging against Seokjin’s side, whispered at him, “I like getting dirty.”

Most kids did, Seokjin was certain, and so he winked at her supportively.

“But,” he asked them all, nodding to Yunho who was across the way and ready, “what happens after we’re dirty and it’s time to fix that?”

A boy hopped by Seokjin with boundless energy, shouting, “Wash up! Wash up! Wash up!”

Yunho had warm water and soap at the ready, and the kids chased him down with a vengeance.

“Help!” Yunho called out to Seokjin who was setting the little girl down on her feet. “They’re mauling me! They’re animals!”

Seokjin gave the last of the children a nudge towards the water, because there were a couple of stragglers still playing in the glitter goo, and then Seokjin made his way over as well.

“They’re just children,” he teased out. “It’s really showing you don’t have any.”

Yunho said, “If we’re judging that on the situation at hand, it looks like you have too many.”

With eyes and ears on him, Seokjin took his own dirty hands, and said to the children, “One of the most important things you can do is wash your hands. Remember how we just talked about germs and dirt!” Little heads nodded firmly. “I want you all to think about the amount of times you wash your hands in a day. Hoyeon? How many times do you wash your hands in a day?”

The boy shrugged.

Seokjin soaped his fingers and said, “It doesn’t matter if you wash your hands once a day, or twice. I want you to double that right now. Because the best way to keep yourself healthy, and to keep those germs away, is to wash your hands. After you use the bathroom, after you go out and play, after you sneeze. Always wash your hands. Dirty can be fun, but washing can be fun, too.” He blew some bubbles as a couple of kids who laughed.

Yunho looked at him in disbelief. “You’re too good at this. Seriously, how are you this good with kids?”

While the children were lathering up their fingers and blowing bubbles at each other, Seokjin washed his fingers off and told Yunho, “When you have a little brother that you’re kind of a parent to in a lot of ways, you learn a lot of tricks. You learn the best way to handle kids. It’s just something you grow into. No one starts off knowing what to do.”

“Look at my hands, Doctor Kim!” one of the kids shouted, and then there were all clambering for him to look at their fingers.

It took some time to get through them all, but Seokjin made sure to praise all of the children, and then add a golden star to the name tags they were wearing. The nametags were a little oversized, so that each station the kids visited, they could get an additional mark next to the name as a badge of honor. Seokjin had encouraged a lot of the adults to do the same, if only the set the example. Most of them weren’t participating, but some of them were, and that seemed like a victory just enough.

“Okay, okay,” Seokjin said, waving at the parents as an indicator. “Time to move on to the next station! There’s still a lot for you guys to do!”

Groans of protest went up, but most of the children allowed their parents to shepherd them away. Seokjin tried not to focus on the little girl he’d held in his arms for a short while, as she danced around her mother, trying to tell her what she’d done, only to be rebuffed.

“Jin?” Yunho asked.

Seokjin responded, “You ever wonder why some people bother to have kids?” Seokjin nodded to the mother and daughter pair.

Yunho offered, “She brought her daughter. That’s a step.”

Seokjin was thinking of the baby then, Yebin, that he’d had in his examination room roughly a week earlier. That had been just as heartbreaking as what he was witnessing now.

“I just don’t get it,” Seokjin sighed out.

“Come on,” Yunho said, “let’s get this set up before the next batch comes in.”

They had to get the area picked up in just a few minutes, because children were already eyeing the station, and were looking antsy at the current wait happening. But that wasn’t something Seokjin let himself feel bad about. There were a lot of child and family friendly stations set up all along the block that they’d had roped off.

Hongbin was running a health station, complete with coloring activities for the kids about the food pyramid, and tasty, healthy treats for them to try.

And next to him Jessica and Irene had teamed up for a CPR/First Aid class. They had rescue dummies for the adults, and other interactive tools for the children.

Jonghyun was giving a lecture to wide eyed parents about the dangers of tobacco and alcohol, while Moonbin had his own station encouraging fitness. Jonghyun’s participants looked terrified over what he was saying, but Moonbin had collected an impressive number of children and they were all jumping around and exercising to loud but energizing music.

“Wanna get a smoothie?” Yunho asked, nodding to where Krystal was juicing like a pro, sneaking in bits of information about sugar in fruit, which was all building to an impressive and unexpected bit on glucose levels.

They’d had a to get sneaky, of course. Children were sponges for information, and adults had the kind of attention spans to focus when necessary, but learning was always easier when it was fun and interesting. So they’d themed topics around games, and fun activities, and nothing that seemed like the educations dump it all was.

“Or,” Seokjin said with a grin, “we could go play Yoona and Raina’s scavenger hunt.” With Raina’s help, they’d hidden prizes all over the area, and participants could claim one by following health related clues and solving simple but fun puzzles.

“Nah,” Yunho said, “I’m happy here.”

Seokjin made sure to tell him, “You’re actually putting in some work. You know you don’t have to, right? You’re here as a guest, but you’re working like—”

Yunho cut in, “Like this is my clinic?”

“It will always be your clinic,”

Yunho gave him a full grin, and said, “Thanks.”

Seokjin dumped some more glitter into the trough and said, “But I do appreciate you being here. Especially at this station. I know there were openings other places, ones less likely to draw children in.”

Yunho confided, “I guess kids aren’t that bad. I just don’t get them. I don’t want to get them, actually. I’m more than happy dealing with adults, who can be difficult all on their own, but are a lot more predictable in the way they’re going to be difficult.”

“Kids can be easy to predict too,” Seokjin argued.

“That’s because you have baby mojo or something,” Yunho said. He frowned then added, “Actually, if you want to share some of that with me, if it goes up a little in age, I’d really appreciate it. Like, if you have any super-secret tricks to dealing with teenagers, send them my way.”

Seokjin asked, “Jonghyun and I already said we’d put your cousin through the ringer tomorrow. You don’t sound like you’ve changed your mind, right?”

“God no,” Yunho eased out. He looked around the area that was milling with people and said, “If you return him to me slightly bruised, I won’t even say anything. He’s here, you know. I brought him with me.”

Seokjin looked around then, as if he could spot a boy that he’d never met before. He imagined Yunho’s cousin shared at least some facial features, but then Yunho had said that the kid was half American, so maybe not so much.

“He’s here?” Seokjin wondered.

“I brought him because I wanted to get a jump start on him working off some time he needs to serve this trip. I told him he’d be helping out. So naturally, we were here five minutes before he gave me the slip and I haven’t been able to find him since. That was two hours ago, Jin.”

Seokjin grimaced. “You don’t think he wandered off, do you? This neighborhood is a lot safer now that Bangtan is in control, but it’s not idiot proof. Yunho, I know he’s your cousin, but does he speak Korean?”

Yunho seemed far too amused at his sudden panic, and assured, “I don’t think he’s wandered off. My parent’s house is pretty far away, and he doesn’t have the car keys. Neither does he have a lot of money. He doesn’t know it right now, but he’ll figure it out pretty soon, his parents cut his credit card off. If he tries to make any purchases with it, they’ll be declined. And I know he’s got about fifty American dollars in his wallet. That won’t last him long.”

“Not in Seoul,” Seokjin agreed.

“And,” Yunho added, “he does speak Korean. He probably speaks it better than most Koreans. He’s been taking lessons since he was kid, and my Auntie talks to him in Korean.”

Seokjin stopped to consider, “Do you want us to pay him for his services at the clinic?” They certainly had it in the budget for that sort of thing, and he was starting to feel guilty about free labor. Typically, their interns got school credit of some kind, or could add it to their resumes for future medical occupations. Yunho’s cousin wouldn’t be getting anything out of it.

Yunho said frankly, “This is a punishment, Seokjin. Not any kind of reward. He nearly failed his sophomore year in high school.”

Seokjin set out new drying cloths near the washing station and said, “You haven’t even really told me that much about this kid. I don’t even know his name.”

Yunho fumbled in his pocket for a second, and then brought a picture up on the screen as he said, “This is Samuel. He’s sixteen, remember? What else do you want to know?”

Seokjin gave the picture an appreciative glance and said, “You’d better be careful while he’s here. He’s very handsome. Some company is bound to try and scoop him up and make him an idol, if only by his face alone.”

Groaning, Yunho said, “Don’t say that, you’ll jinx the situation. Didn’t I tell you the one class he got an A in?” When Seokjin shook his head, Yunho continued, “Theater. This kid, Jin, I’m telling you. He could barely pass math with a D, but he got full marks in theater, and stared in the musical last semester. He’s good, too. He can sing, dance, and act. He’s a triple threat. And if some idol company picks him up, like SM or JYP, I’ll never get him home.”

Even more kids were starting to gather around the station, and Seokjin asked quickly, “What’s his problem? He just doesn’t like school? Jungkook graduated with pretty average grades because of that. He only hit his stride in college because it was a lot more flexible for him. You know Jungkook. He does better with choices, and freedom.”

Yunho laughed dryly. “This kid needs less of that, not more. He’s not like Jungkook. Jungkook got okay grades and gradated because of you, Jin. You pushed him. Maybe you were a little overbearing at times, but you pushed him towards greatness. I love my family, Jin, but no one pushes Samuel. His dad works more than you and your boyfriend put together, if you can believe that. And my Auntie, she’s a sweet woman, but Samuel is her only child and she babies him. She let him get his way for too long. She let him run the show for most of his life, and that’s why she’s having trouble getting him to fall in line. No, freedom and choices and flexibility aren’t what’s needed here.”

“Just menial, humbling service?”

Yunho nodded. “The kind involving bedpans.”

“Okay, okay,” Seokjin agreed. Across the way there were parents now making desperate glances in their direction. “Ready for the next round?”

“As long as I don’t have to be the one handling the glittery children, I’m ready.”

Yunho moved back to the washing station, and Seokjin was truly grateful to have him. And not just because it was nice having an old friend by his side, and a familiar face to look at. He really did need the extra help with the children. The turnout had been even more than they’d expected, and the place was absolutely packed.

Seokjin and the others had anticipated that a couple hundred people might turn out. They’d even thought that they were a little too hopeful in that estimation. But just half an hour in to when they’d started, it had become evident that word had spread about the clinic and the event, and they were going to have a ton more people than they’d planned for.

They certainly weren’t being overwhelmed. But it was taking longer to get through the sheer volume of people wanting to rotate through the stations, and even the food vendors looked pressed to keep up.

The best part of all, besides the number of people who’d turned out, was the fact that Bangtan’s men had been there from the start. Some of the lower level members were scattered around the perimeter, keeping a lookout for trouble, but the higher ranked ones, the ones with more trust from Namjoon, were inside the area. They were running errands, and moving things around, and interacting with the families present.

 They weren’t sticking out like sore thumbs, but if one was paying attention and looked, they were easy to spot. And the fact that there hadn’t been any complaints about them, or worried parents, or upset people, was a good feeling. It reminded Seokjin that progress was being made. Bangtan was restoring faith to the neighborhood, and people were seeing them as the good guys they really were.

Seokjin had spotted Jimin earlier, prowling around like he wanted to be anywhere else, but also kind of like he belonged. And Hoseok had brought all three of his sisters to meet him at the start of it, which had been wonderful. Taehyung hadn’t been far behind, insisting that he get to play in the glitter as well.

The only downside of all of that was that Taehyung had started flinging glitter goo at Hoseok, who’d returned the favor, and Seokjin had been on the verge of a full-blown glitter war, with the children taking their cue from the duo.

Seokjin was just waiting on the rest of Bangtan to show up. Jungkook had texted earlier that he might be a little late, but Seokjin trusted him to be there.

That only left Yoongi and Namjoon.

“I need you there,” Seokjin had told Namjoon over the phone when Namjoon had apologized and claimed he was too busy to make it. “I never ask you for anything, and I’m asking you for this.”

Namjoon, who had actually sounded regretful, had replied, “I’ll see, okay? Things are … rough right now, Jin. You know that. A lot is happening, and I have to be here for this.”

He couldn’t be a hypocrite. That was the bottom line. Namjoon wasn’t just ducking out of the event because he didn’t want to attend. He was busy chasing down people who would truly hurt Seokjin, or Jungkook, or even innocents, to get any kind of footing back in the neighborhood. And if Seokjin was asking Namjoon to play second fiddle to his clinic sometimes, Seokjin had to be willing to sacrifice things too.

He just thought it would be an amazing statement if Namjoon was there, in his glory, walking among the regular people, showing them that they had nothing to fear from him.

“Let’s do this,” Seokjin said, and welcomed the next wave of children in.

For the next hour Seokjin found himself up to his elbows in glitter, and enjoyed the different groups that came through. Children seemed to naturally clump together by age, so he could be entertaining a group of extremely young children one minute, and then he got the delight of talking to preteens the next.

And then, to his even bigger surprise, just before he was about to take a break and have his lunch, he managed to wrangle up a half dozen adults who let him talk them into getting up to their elbows in the glittery goo.

“Dig in,” he encouraged, watching Yunho turn away and smother down laugher. “And since there are no children here, let me be frank and honest with you all. We all know that none of you wash your hands as often as you should. We all know that hardly anyone washes their hands every time they use the rest room, every time they sneeze, every time the touch the floor, or something unsanitary. That’s just typical from people, but I’m going to break it down for you now in a real and honest way.”

Seokjin loved children, he truly did. But there was something refreshing being able to talk to adults bluntly.

He told them, watching in an amused way as they dove into the goo more and more enthusiastically as time went on, “The numbers don’t lie. Not washing your hands and spreading germs around like it’s Christmas will increase your chances of everything from eye and skin infections, to lovely diarrhea, to respiratory issues such as pneumonia. The increase in your chances of experiencing diarrhea jump by thirty percent alone.”

A series of scowls and sour faces went around.

“A lot of you here have children,” Seokjin told them frankly. “Or you’re exposed to children. So let me hit you where it hurts the most. Children have weaker immune systems than any of us. When you don’t wash your hands visibly to them every time you need to, you not only fail to reinforce the behavior, but you also increase their chances of getting sick. Worst case scenario? You or they get so sick you have to see a doctor like me, and then naturally I prescribe antibiotics.”

A young woman near Seokjin asked, “What’s wrong with that?”

“Other than the way you’ll be feeling?” Seokjin asked. “Antibiotics are life savers. Literally. But there is such a thing as antibiotic resistance. And if you get sick enough, you or a group of people can build that resistance, making certain or a wide range of antibiotics useless.”

Seokjin didn’t want to scare them, but sometimes scare tactics were the best tactics.

“You may look at this,” he hedged, “and think it’s a little childish or dumb to put such an emphasis on just hand washing. But I see a lot of people a day, trust me, and some of them are sick in ways that could have been prevented. It takes sixty seconds to wash your hands thoroughly, and you can save yourself, or someone you love, a world of pain because of it. Just think about it.”

Seokjin got to go to lunch after that, and while he was enjoying a cool drink in the shade, he happily read a text from Jungkook wherein he promised he was on his way. There was still nothing from Namjoon on making an appearance, but the day was far from over.

He expected Jungkook before he started his station up again in a couple of minutes. He just wasn’t expecting his brother to come practically plowing into his side moments after the text and nearly manhandle him towards the clinic, saying, “Okay, so don’t freak out or anything, but we have a small emergency.”

Seokjin’s stomach hit the floor. “Namjoon?”

“No, no,” Jungkook rushed to say. “He’s doing damage control right now and clean up. There was sort of an ambush.”

Too loud, definitely too loudly, Seokjin demanded, “Ambush!”

Jungkook rushed out, “I said don’t freak out!”

The clinic was closed, but Seokjin had the master key and alarm code to get in, so he was able to get the both of them into the clinic as he demanded, “What’s the emergency? And you’d better explain this ambush.”

Jungkook hit the lock on the doors to the clinic after they were in and said, “It’s Suga. He got hit during the set up. It was definitely a set up. He’s around back. He didn’t think it would be a good idea to come through the front bleeding everywhere.”

“Go ahead,” Seokjin urged, pushing at Jungkook. “Meet me with Yoongi upstairs. You said stabbed, right? It’s bad, then.”

“Not good,” Jungkook said evenly, but there was fear in his eyes.

The second floor then, definitely. For a minor wound, Seokjin could treat Yoongi in one of the examination rooms. But a stabbing? Something like that could require surgery, or at least treatment above a quick bandage or some stitches.

Jungkook was running towards the back entrance when Seokjin called after him, “You’re ruining my day!”

Jungkook shouted back, “You’re the best.”

It wasn’t Namjoon, Seokjin told himself, breathing in deeply before taking the stairs to the second floor two at a time to get ready for Yoongi. It wasn’t Namjoon that had been hurt. Jungkook had said so.

When Jungkook, along with a hand full of Bangtan’s men, got Yoongi up to his operating room, the man was literally bleeding onto the floor.

“It’s not that bad,” Yoongi hissed out, a hand clutched to his side where blood was seeping out. The flow was slow, however, so Seokjin was able to breathe relief in that department.

“What happened?” he demanded, getting Yoongi up on a table. He sheared off Yoongi’s top without asking for permission, and then peeled back the man’s hand.

The wound, without pressure being applied, gave a strong pulse, and gushed blood out.

“Damnit,” Seokjin said softly. He wanted to know, “Who’s bright idea was it to pull the knife out?”

Jungkook hovered near by, wide eyed as he said, “The dude who stabbed him, I swear. I know better, Jin. I would have kept it in, if possible. But some guy got the jump on him, stabbed him, and then pulled the knife out to go again.”

In a disoriented way, Yoongi reached a bloody hand up to catch Seokjin’s wrist, and with half lidded eyes, he asked, “Is my sister here? Jin. Jin, don’t let her see me like this. Don’t let her know. Don’t … my sister.”

Seokjin shook his wrist free and told Jungkook in no uncertain terms, “Go out there right now and get Yunho. He’s working my station. The hand washing station. Shut it down, put someone in his place, do whatever, but get him. I need another set of hands. Get him. You have two minutes.”

Jungkook shot off like a missile.

And that left Seokjin in the operating room with a delirious Yoongi, and four other men from Bangtan.

“You,” he said sharply, nodding to the one of the far right. “Go wash your hands. Scrub them. Right over there. There’s a sink. Wash them with as hot of water as you can stand, and then get back here in a minute. And you two in the middle, listen up, I need you to bring me a couple of things and it’s really important you touch only what I’m telling you to touch.”

They moved under his orders without thinking twice, all three of them springing into actions and proving their value thus far.

“What about me?” the fourth man asked, looking like he was itching to do something—anything.

“I hope you’re a smart one with a good memory,” Seokjin told him seriously. Then he jerked his hip out where several keys were clipped to a belt loop. “I need you to take the key to the medical cabinet down on the first floor. And you’d better listen very carefully for what I need you to bring up. We only have a short amount of time here, Yoongi is already starting to show signs of going into shock, and I need to figure out how bad the damage is asap.”

He sent the fourth man off to acquire the drugs he’d need for the coming surgery, just as the first man was coming back from washing his hands.

“Gloves,” Seokjin said, nodding to a box over there.

“What am I doing?” the man asked fretfully, watching Seokjin uncertainly.

Seokjin shifted his fingers so that the man could press down on the bandage he’d applied to Yoongi’s side. “I need to wash my hands now,” Seokjin told him evenly. “But we don’t want him to bleed out, do we? So you’re going to stand here, and apply pressure, and I’m going to get washed up. Got it?”

“Got it,” the man said shakily, but pressing down confidently.

“My sister,” Yoongi mumbled, lips pale and bloodless.

Seokjin ran to the sink to wash his own hands.

In a lot of ways, Seokjin suspect he should have felt at least a little forlorn. He had Yoongi on his operating table, severely injured, and had four inexperienced men, with no medical training, as his backup.

But it was like a beautiful waltz was exploding around him as the seconds ticked by. Supplies arrived to his side the same time that the fourth man returned with exactly what he needed to numb Yoongi and then knock him out. And the first was holding strong at Yoongi’s side while Seokjin organized his things quickly and prepared to start assessing the situation from a tactical standpoint.

He was just taking another good look at the wound, questioning the men about the length of the knife that had stabbed Yoongi, when Yunho arrived.

“What’s the situation,” he demanded, washing his hands right away and then snapping on some gloves.

“Stab wound,” Seokjin rattled off, probing the wound for additional tearing or shrapnel. “Approximately fifteen to twenty minutes ago, length of the blade unknown, but definitely longer than your standard switchblade.”

Under the glow of the florescent lights, Yunho looked magnificent, snapping into action and asking, “DPL?”

“Absolutely,” Seokjin answered right away. “We don’t know how long the knife was, and we need to determine if there’s internal bleeding.” A diagnostic peritoneal lavage was the best chance they had at understanding the damage in time to treat it.

Across the room Seokjin could see Jungkook and the other men waiting and watching.

“We need a nurse,” Yunho said as he administered the anesthesia. Yoongi had already passed out, but Seokjin felt better knowing he was sleeping without pain now.

Bluntly, Seokjin said, “We need Moonbin.” He had the most experience out of all the nurses, and Seokjin favored him in high stress situations. The nurse had already proven himself, too.

“On it!” Jungkook said before another word could be said. He ducked out of the room just as Seokjin got started.

Seokjin didn’t say a word as he leveled the scalpel a bit of ways under Yoongi’s navel, Yunho already cutting down his pants with clothing sheers, and told himself at a whisper, “Disassociate. Disassociate. This is not your friend. This is your patient.”

And when he cut into Yoongi’s skin, he was a doctor working on a patient and nothing more.

Moonbin was washed up and at their side just in time to work the catheter into Yoongi in their desperate bid to determine how bad the damage was.

“No internal bleeding,” Moonbin reported to Seokjin with relief in his voice when the procedure was done.

“Blood’s coming in now,” Yunho reported as the door to the surgery room opened and Jonghyun entered. He a mask held over his mouth as he delivered several bags of blood to the side table and said, “You know I have to warn you that this is fresh off the truck and hasn’t been tested.”

Seokjin nodded. “I know.” On top of all the other stations they’d had that day for the community to participate in, they’d also had a blood truck stationed there for donations.

It was borderline unethical to even consider using untested blood. But Yoongi was losing it quickly, and Seokjin didn’t think he’d survive a trip to a larger hospital to receive screened blood.

“What about me?” Jungkook asked, back in the room even though the other men from Bangtan had long since fled. “Can’t I give him some?”

Seokjin shook his head. “Yoongi’s type O.  You’re not compatible.”

 Moonbin frowned and said, “But MJ is. And I know he’s clean, because he just got tested. He just got out of a bad relationship. His girlfriend cheated on him. So he got tested, just in case. A full workup. Everything from syphilis to HIV.”

Seokjin demanded. “Who’s MJ?”

“A friend of mine,” Moonbin rushed to say. “Eunwoo and I brought him today to try and cheer him up from his relationship ending. He’s outside right now, and I swear on my life, he’s clean. I saw his blood test myself. He had it three days ago.”

Weakly, Jungkook offered, “I’ll go get him?”

Moonbin called to him, “He’s with Eunwoo. Find Eunwoo.”

“God bless your brother,” Yunho said wryly. Then he focused back on Yoongi. “Let’s get going on this guy.”

Backing up a little, mask still pressed over his face, Jonghyun asked, “You need me or you got this?”

Seokjin shared a quick look between Yunho and Moonbin, then said, “We got this.”

“Be a Rockstar, Jin,” Jonghyun laughed out, and then left.

No pressure, Seokjin urged himself. No pressure.

No internal bleeding, he reminded himself as he got back on track, was a very, very good sign. It was the best sign they could possibly have, and it cut down on the risk on Yoongi’s life significantly.

What came next was mapping the trajectory of the knife, trying to assess if it had nicked anything important. Even if there wasn’t internal bleeding, there was still plenty that could go wrong for Yoongi in his situation.

“This guy,” Yunho breathed out as they moved along carefully, working in tandem with Moonbin aiding spectacularly, “he’s just eaten up all his luck for the year in one day, I think.”

Seokjin leaned over to verify what Yunho was indicating, and deflated a little in relief. Yoongi had gotten extremely lucky. It looked like the knife had slid up into his ribcage from a lower trajectory, and had cut through meat and muscle, but miraculously missed anything vital.

The amount of blood he’d been losing had been worrisome at first, but there was no indication that an artery had been hit, and Seokjin was starting to have hope.

“I think,” Yunho said slowly, clearly wanting to be certain, “we’ve got a scrape along a rib. But that seems to be the most serious of the issues.”

“Which one?” Seokjin asked.

“Number eleven,” Yunho related. “Floating rib territory.”

Seokjin wondered, “Did the knife hit an intercostal space?” The space between the ribs contained everything from nerves, to muscle, to arteries and veins. Damage there could be significant, even if it was slight.

“No,” Yunho said in an astonished way. “I’m serious, this guy is lucky beyond belief.”

Moonbin shrugged, “The luckiest I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know,” Seokjin said, tenseness bleeding from him.

Yoongi hadn’t, much to everyone’s utter shock, been injured in much more than a superficial way. In fact, the biggest threat to him ended up being shock and blood loss. And as Moonbin had said, his friend had been the perfect donor match, and had given more than enough blood right away to solve the first of the major problems.

Then Seokjin had moved Yoongi up to the recovery ward, and done his best to combat shock. He kept a close eye on Yoongi’s pulse, and his heart rate as he waited for the man to wake up.

Seokjin and Yunho had been in agreement that the wound hadn’t needed to be packed, so they’d done another run through to make sure they hadn’t missed any injuries that might cause problems down the line, and then they’d closed him up.

“Rap Mon’s on his way,” Jungkook said softly from the door.

Seokjin looked over at him from where he was standing near the window, watching the people on the street go on about their business as if nothing was happening feet from them. He could even see that Yunho had returned to his station and was helping kids scrub their hands.

He was sad in a way that he couldn’t be down there, finishing out what he’d started. And he was upset that Yoongi was hurt and could have bled out on his table, but in a lot of ways, he was still feeling the exhilaration from the surgery. He’d felt it before, when Seungkwan had come stumbling into his clinic with a ruptured spleen, and it was vibrating through his skin now.

There was a certain feeling that came with saving a life. There was an indescribable feeling that only came with being in the heat of the moment and performing surgery that had real weight to it.

Again, something longing was attached to that feeling, something that reminded Seokjin that he missed it more than he’d been willing to admit. And it wasn’t a good feeling to have.

He loved his clinic. He loved his patients. He didn’t like feeling like it wasn’t enough.

“Jin?”

“I heard you,” Seokjin said, turning from the window. There was irritation crawling under his skin that it took Yoongi almost dying for Namjoon to put in an appearance. “He’s coming?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said. His eyes drifted to Yoongi. “Is he going to be okay?”

Jungkook’s shoulders were hunched in on himself, and it set off all kinds of protective urges in Seokjin. Enough of them, at least, to get him walking to Jungkook’s side in order to tug him into a warm hug.

“His prognosis for recovery looks good,” Seokjin assured, scratching his fingers across Jungkook’s scalp. He felt his brother nearly melt into him. “The knife didn’t hit anything vital, and we replaced the blood he lost. I’m just waiting for the anesthesia to wear off now, and then I’ll have an even better picture of how quick or slow his recovery might go. Are you going to wait with me?”

“Actually,” Jungkook said, hooking an arm around Seokjin’s waist. He practically lifted Seokjin off his feet with such strength that it seemed effortless, and it startled Seokjin. Since when had Jungkook gotten so strong? “You,” Jungkook said, “are going to go take a break, and get a drink of water, and relax until Rap Mon gets here. He’s on his way, but it might be an hour or so before he shows up.”

Seokjin latched onto the door frame as Jungkook tried to edge him out and protested, “I’m not going to leave my recently operated on patient in the hands of my little brother.”

“He’s stable, isn’t he?” Jungkook asked.

“I’m monitoring him,” Seokjin protested. But even if Seokjin was stronger than people ever suspected, he was no match for his little brother who’d obviously been at the gym, and was practically tossing him out of the room. “Jungkook! I’m not playing around.”

“And you,” Jungkook said, dragging him out into the hall, “don’t give me enough credit sometimes.”

That was when Seokjin saw Jonghyun coming down the hallway.

“I’ll take it from here,” Jonghyun announced. He high-fived Jungkook as he passed by into the recovery room.

“Excuse me?” Seokjin demanded.

“I’m teaming up with your brother,” Jonghyun called through the door, checking over Yoongi’s numbers. “I’ll wait here with him, and you’re going to go sit down and drink some water and pace yourself. You’ve been going hard since early this morning, you just did a tense surgery, and you look like a strong gust of wind could knock you over. When that boyfriend of yours gets here, we’ll let you know and you can come on back up. Until then, goodbye.”

“Traitor,” Seokjin told the both of them.  But he was suddenly a little weary on his feet, and a cool glass of water sounded divine.

“Go,” Jonghyun ordered, settling into the room.

Seokjin glared at his brother as he headed for the stairs, but there was no heat in it, and Jungkook knew it by the smile he returned.

Seokjin was on his way down to the employee lounge on the first floor when a breeze of wind blew at him. It didn’t, contrary to what Jonghyun seemed to think was going to happen, knock him over. But it was confounding, because where could a breeze be coming from?

He walked along the long hallway on the first floor back in the employee area. His footsteps were the only sound echoing on the floor, but there was still wind blowing at him.

He stopped, unsettled, and leaned back a little. He could just see the front door—the two doors that swung open wide when the clinic was open. But they were pressed closed and presumably locked. They must have been, because people were drifting back and forth in front of the clinic, and the automatic sensor wasn’t swinging the doors open.

Seokjin moved back through the clinic. He’d spent plenty of time alone in the clinic before and never felt the sense of unease that he was feeling right now. And that seemed ridiculous, because both Jonghyun and Jungkook were right upstairs.

Instinctively, he called out, “Hello?”

He was coming down off the surgery high in a hard way. He could feel it in him. his heart was slowing, his pulse was dropping, and he should have been calming. But something didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right.

He turned a final corner, the corner furthest back where the offices were located, and stopped.

There was a shadow lurking in the doorway to his office. The door was just angled so he couldn’t see in properly, but there was a shadow extending out of it in the midday sunlight, and it left no question to the fact that there was someone standing in his office.

Who the hell was in his office? And why?

“Hello?” he tried again. How had someone else gotten into the clinic?

He took a firm step forward, and then a hand on his shoulder wrenched him back.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

The action of being jerked back caught Seokjin so off guard that he lost his balance. It hadn’t been a particularly hard tug backwards, but it had been at just the right angle to nearly take him off his feet. And then, of course, he screamed.

The thing was, the person who’d pulled on him, they screamed too.

A distinctly female voice screamed louder than Seokjin had, which startled him into screaming again.

It was all very …well, it would have been hilarious if it was scripted in a television show or movie.

But for Seokjin it was such a shock that his vision nearly went black, and he ended up sliding down the nearby wall as the world spun around him, while a young girl across from him, probably barely out of her teenage years, gasped for air.

Seokjin sucked in air sharply, trying to calm himself down. His heart was beating so hard in his chest it was painful, and his vision was definitely too spotty for it to be a good sign. He felt his chest heaving as he gasped in breaths of air and he let his head thunk back against the wall.

He had his emergency medication in the employee lounge area. He had the pills that would stave off any major cardiac arrest if he took them quickly enough, but enough time and practice had also shown in the past that if he was lucky, he could coach himself into getting his heart under control.

“Are you okay?” the female voice squeaked out, but Seokjin ignored her.

There was a lump in his throat, a lump that was only getting bigger, and that meant it was getting harder to breathe.

A heart racing out of control he could maybe handle. But if his breathing became labored or burdened, he’d have to recognize the danger of the situation.

“Jin!”

He felt Jungkook at his side the same as he heard him. His brother’s warm, familiar hands were hoarding him close, and he could have smelled Jungkook’s obnoxiously strong cologne from a mile away.

“I’m okay,” he gasped out, but he didn’t feel that way.

He’d meant to go to the hospital after that night at the Noodle House when his heart had acted up on him. But he’d gotten so busy, and he’d been distracted, and Minah was out of town until the following month as well. So he’d talked himself into waiting. He’d told himself that other than the little hiccup that night, his heart had been doing just fine.

“Move,” Jonghyun’s strong voice commanded.

And that was all it took for Jungkook to nudge to the side and for Jonghyun to take his place, measuring his pulse against his breathing with a calculating look on his face.

“I’m fine,” he found himself repeating. And then mercifully, the lump in his throat was starting to go down.

As he breathed in deeper and deeper, getting more air each time, he felt Jungkook’s’ hands grip tightly to his pants like an anchor, and when he looked to his brother, there was nothing but fear on his face.

“Do you need your pills?” Jungkook demanded. He seemed ready to bolt.

“No. No.” Seokjin caught his wrist and held on tightly. It was a moment of stability he really needed.

“Your heart rate says otherwise,” Jonghyun commented. But even he had to admit, “Still, it’s at a steady pace, I don’t detect any palpitations, and you aren’t turning blue in the face, so I’m willing to bet you dodged a bullet. What happened?”

Seokjin’s eyes slid from Jungkook, to Jonghyun, to finally the girl that was still standing a distance away. She was clutching her purse to her chest and was looking at them all like she might be the next one to go down.

“How did you get in here?” Seokjin asked. “Who are you?”

“I….” she seemed shocked into silence.

Seokjin felt like he was getting ahead of himself, so he told Jungkook, “I came down stairs and she startled me.”

When Jungkook arched towards her with curiosity, Seokjin was able to just make out the sliver of silver tucked behind him into his waistband. Seokjin hadn’t seen the gun come out, and he had words to say about Jungkook even having it in his clinic to begin with, but at least Jungkook was using some common sense with it and wasn’t waving it around right now.

He supposed he could let it slide this once, even with his rules at the clinic. Jungkook had probably had it on him when things had gone sour with Yoongi, and then he’d been so preoccupied with trying to get him help, there’d been no time to ditch the gun or pass it off to someone outside.

Jungkook was considerate than most when it came to Seokjin’s ticks, so he hardly thought his brother had brought the gun in on purpose.

“Who are you?” Jungkook repeated. He seemed just as confused by the girl’s presence there as everyone else.

She seemed to finally find herself, and rushed out, “I was just cutting through the alley. I was going to have coffee with my friends at the café down the street.” She pointed to the back of the clinic. “The door was open. I just came in to make sure everything was okay. I swear. I came in to see if the door was supposed to be open, because it didn’t look like it was.”

Jungkook’s eyes cut hard. “The back door was open?”

“Did one of yours leave it open?” Seokjin asked. His vision was clearing up now, and his legs felt restless under him. It seemed so unlikely, but still completely plausible. He’d had Bangtan in and out of his clinic since Yoongi had been brought in. It was possible that one of them had left the back door open. But it was a mistake or oversite that seemed … it just felt wrong.

Namjoon had a hand in the direction all of his men got. He knew most of them by name, he built relationships with them, and they knew what kinds of things were absolutely unacceptable. It felt wrong that any of them would have exposed Seokjin to such a thing, especially considering Infinite still had members on the loose. People could be careless and forgetful, but Namjoon’s men weren’t like that with him.

“No way,” Jungkook said, completely in agreement with what Seokjin was thinking. “Not possible.”

Seokjin looked back to her. “You’re sure the door was open?”

She frowned at him. “Of course it was. It was wide open. That’s the only way I could have gotten in here.”

Seokjin turned to Jungkook and requested, “Get me on my feet, okay?” He was still a little wobbly and he didn’t trust himself not to go face first in front of everyone and make a fool of himself.

“Are you okay?” she asked again.

“I’m fine now,” Seokjin told her kindly. “Thank you for coming in to check if everything was okay.”

She finally let go of her iron clad grip on her purse and breathed out, “It looks like I did more harm than good. You made me think just now I’d given you a heart attack.”

She obviously had no context to the impact of her words, but Seokjin wondered how close he’d actually come. The adrenaline rush from earlier, from performing surgery, had probably strained him, and the second shock had taken him to the floor. He probably could have easily gone into cardiac arrest.

Though at least if that happened, he would have had two people who knew how to perform CPR, and one of them who could use an AED to shock his heart if necessary.

He greeted her, “I’m Kim Seokjin. Again, thank you for your concern.”

She bowed to him, lavender dress wrinkling a little, and returned, “Kim Jiyeon. I’m glad everything is okay.”

“You want to sit down? I’d like to check your blood pressure.” Jonghyun asked, looking for any indication that he might pass out again. Seokjin wanted to tell him that he was feeling better now, but he held back, and only shook his head. He wasn’t ashamed of his condition or how it afflicted him, but he didn’t want to talk about it anymore than necessary in front of a stranger.

The girl, Jiyeon, asked innocently, “Why was your door open?”

Jungkook stepped forward, diverting her attention from Seokjin to say, “Let me walk you out. We’re really grateful that you were here to check things out, but we have to get back out front. And we should probably check that door, shouldn’t we?”

Jungkook was leading her to the door when Jonghyun leaned in close to Seokjin and asked, “Enough with the posturing, okay? Tell me exactly how you’re feeling.  How bad? And do we need to take action?”

Seokjin tested out another deep breath of air, and when it went off without a hitch, he was happy to relay honestly, “I thought for a second … well, the world did go dark on me. But everything feels like it’s going back to normal. I think I’m okay.”

Jonghyun grimaced at him. “We’re still going to take your blood pressure, okay?”

Seokjin protested, “But Yoongi …”

“—is perfectly fine upstairs, tucked away in dream land,” Jonghyun finished for him. “He’s stable. He’s fine. And if he isn’t the alarms are loud enough, and this place is quiet enough right now, that we will be able to hear. So let’s go to an examination room and check you out.”

Seokjin grumbled, “You know I hate being a patient.”

“Or,” Jonghyun offered, “we can wait for your brother to get back here in a couple of seconds, and then he and I can double team you, guilt so you bad you feel like crap for days, and basically coerce you into even more than I’d like to do right now.”

He was about to protest, or rather give in to Jonghyun’s first offer, when the moments before his scare crashed back into him.

Part of the reason he’d been so startled by the girl in the clinic was the shadow he’d seen in his office.

And that girl had not been the one casting it.

“Wait a second,” Seokjin said almost absently, pulling away from Jonghyun and heading towards his office.

“What are you doing?” Jonghyun asked, trailing after him. Jungkook met them down the hallway before Seokjin even got back to his office.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asked in a confused way.

Seokjin blocked them all out and stepped into his office. With his feet planted on the ground firmly, he looked around the room. It was completely empty, and nothing seemed out of place. So he looked harder. But as much as he looked for something to indicate he hadn’t been mistaken earlier, there was no indication that anyone had been in his office.

And there wasn’t anywhere to hide in his office, either. There was no closet, and there was no back covering to his desk, so it wasn’t as if anyone could be crouched under it. There really was no place for someone to hide, and that left only one of two possibilities.

Either he’d been wrong, or while Seokjin’s legs had failed him, that person had used the opportunity to slip out.

But his gut told him he hadn’t seen wrong. For a long time he’d listened to people like Namjoon and Jimin talk about their gut feelings in relation to danger, and he’d always sympathized, but never been able to empathize. Now, however, he was feeling it. There was an urging in him that said he wasn’t wrong, and someone had been in the clinic. Someone had been in his office.

But why?

And who?

“Jin?” Jungkook asked a little nervously.

Seokjin pivoted towards him and said, “When I came downstairs I saw something.”

Jungkook asked uncertain, “Saw what?”

Seokjin moved further into his office, walking the floorplan and rounding his desk to his computer. The computer was still off, and he even put a hand on the tower to confirm it was cool to the touch and hadn’t been on recently at all.

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook asked.

“I came downstairs,” Seokjin recounted, trying the windows next, but they were firmly shut and couldn’t have been opened from the outside. They only cracked open a couple of inches anyway, and even someone extremely slim wouldn’t have been able to fit through without breaking something. “Before I saw the girl, I saw someone in my office. I mean, I saw the shadow of someone in my office. It wasn’t my eyes playing tricks on me, either. Someone was in here, and I think they used the opportunity of what just happened, to slip out without us noticing.”

Almost angrily, Jonghyun said, “We’ve got cameras in the front, and in the surgical areas, but not this far back. Damnit, I knew we should have gotten the whole place covered.”

Seokjin shook his head slowly as he looked back to Jonghyun. “The both of us agreed that we didn’t need cameras back here just yet. It wasn’t a priority, not when we wanted to give bonuses to our staff to celebrate the new clinic opening. I stand by that, even though this happened. Our people deserved those bonuses.”

Seokjin thought they deserved even more than he and Jonghyun were currently able to give them. A lot of their employees were more than skilled enough, with impressive enough work history, to work elsewhere making double what they currently were at the clinic. And they hadn’t been able to give out Christmas bonuses the previous year.

They’d always had plans to cover the entire clinic with security cameras, but they’d really thought that the employee area could wait.

Calmly, but in a deceptive way, Jungkook asked, “Who would be in your office?”

Seokjin offered up, “The person who opened the back door.”

“Broke open,” Jungkook said tersely.

Jonghyun asked, “You checked?”

“I checked,” Jungkook said, nodding slowly. “The lock is busted off, and from the way it was done, it was someone who knew what they were doing. It wasn’t a smash and grab kind of bust.”

Seokjin gave his office a final look around and felt like a failure that there was no clue he could deduce to figure out who’d been in his office, or what they’d been hunting around for.

Maybe whoever had been in the clinic, hadn’t even wanted anything in the office. It was possible they’d meant to come further into the clinic for something else, but either Seokjin or the girl had scared them off and into ducking into his office.

It was impossible to know with no evidence and no suspect.

“Is this to do with you?” Jonghyun asked Jungkook roughly. “You know what I mean.”

Jungkook looked startled as he squeaked out, “Jonghyun!”

“Jungkook,” Jonghyun said tersely, “you know that I love you like you’re my own kid brother, and that’s made me look away from a lot of things you’ve gotten yourself into lately. I don’t judge you, I don’t lecture you, and I don’t get involved with your choices. But if you bring your lifestyle into this clinic, so help me god, I’m going to come down on your like a shitload of bricks. Do you understand?”

Seokjin cut physically between Jonghyun’s line of sight with Jungkook and said, “I want to go check on Yoongi.”

Jonghyun’s face held something threatening for a second, then he said, “Fine, but I want to check your blood pressure first. That’s the deal. And you’re going to drink a glass of water.”

Quietly from behind them, Jungkook said, “I need to make a phone call.”

Seokjin questioned, “To Namjoon?”

Somberly, Jungkook nodded. “This? Maybe it’s a just a coincidence, but a lot of stuff has been happening around this area lately. A lot has been happening to Bangtan and to you, lately. If this isn’t a coincidence, then we gotta find out what’s going on and quick. Rap Mon said he was on his way, but this’ll get him here quicker. And admit it or not, I know you’ll feel better with him here.”

Seokjin leveled up a finger at Jungkook and warned, “Don’t freak him out about this, okay? Just tell him we think someone was in the clinic.”

“Then don’t tell him about your heart?” Jungkook pressed, not sounding pleased in the least bit. “Jin, come on, you know that’s a bad idea.”

“I’m fine,” Seokjin stressed out. “This was a nasty little reminder of what I live with every day, but nothing that I haven’t experienced before. If you tell him about what happened with me, he’ll worry, and get stressed out, and he can’t afford to have that kind of distraction right now, can he? Don’t put him in danger, Jungkook.” He couldn’t have Namjoon worrying over him. He couldn’t have him hovering or smothering.

Jungkook looked even more upset as he said, “No, this isn’t about him at all. It’s about you. You want me to not tell him something for your benefit, not his. And that’s not like you. Jin, what’s going on?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Jonghyun interjected, and then he put an arm around Seokjin’s shoulders and directed him down the hall to the exanimation room. Over his shoulder he told Jungkook, “Tell Jin’s boyfriend whatever you want. But I’m going to take care of your brother now, and you should start trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Something is, and I’m not going to have gang crap invading this clinic. Your brother and I have worked too hard on this place to have it devolve into that kind of mess.”

“Jonghyun,” Seokjin said softly, but then he was whisked away to an examination room, and he didn’t even see Jungkook leave.

He did, however, let Jonghyun press a glass of water into his hand, check his pulse once more, and then take his blood pressure.

“A little high,” Jonghyun commented, after the blood pressure machine flashed its results. “But nothing to worry about. I bet if I take your blood pressure again in an hour, it’ll be lower.”

“Probably,” Seokjin said quietly.

Jonghyun wheeled the blood pressure machine and cuff to the side of the room and then leaned against a countertop and asked, “So what’s going on? What’s all this coming down on the clinic right now?”

Seokjin peered at him and said, “You never want to know about this stuff.”

“Right,” Jonghyun agreed, “because you and your brother do an exceptional job of keeping Bangtan away from this clinic. Sure, some of their members turn up from time to time, and even I think Taehyung is adorable enough to weasel his way into a permanent post in this clinic if he wants it.  But this? This is starting to feel a lot more like what happened before. With Infinite.”

Seokjin grimaced. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Jonghyun arched an eyebrow. “So tell me.”

So Seokjin, who trusted Jonghyun implicitly, did. He told him about what had really happened in the apartment, the night he’d been attacked. He told him about the members of Infinite still loose in the neighborhood, and the tension growing between Bangtan and Exo over expansion. He told Jonghyun that Namjoon suspected Bangtan was being baited, and he even said that an outside source had told Seokjin that there was something brewing in the south. He told Jonghyun everything he could, and it felt cathartic.

“This can’t come to the clinic,” Jonghyun said roughly, but not unkindly. “This is a safe space, Jin. You know that. This is somewhere our patients can come and know that they’ll be taken care of. We can’t have any gang business come into the clinic. No exceptions.”

“I know,” Seokjin agreed.

“Then are you going to do something?” Jonghyun wanted to know.

Seokjin got up from the examination table and rolled his sleeve down. Then, with a resigned tone, he said, “I’m going to talk to my boyfriend.”

Jonghyun said blandly, “That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

“Trust me,” Seokjin argued. “It’s the only thing to do right now.”

But first, naturally, he wanted to check on Yoongi. And Yoongi was, thankfully, still completely asleep upstairs, and absolutely dead to the world. There wasn’t so much as a twitch from him when Seokjin checked him over, and that was a good thing. He was eager for Yoongi to wake up so he could give his version of what had happened and shed light on the whole situation, but Yoongi needed his sleep to heal. And Seokjin could wait.

“Go on back outside,” Seokjin urged Jonghyun twenty minutes later when Namjoon arrived, and in force. “One of us needs to be out there to represent this clinic, and Yunho looks like he’s totally overwhelmed from where I’m standing.”

Seokjin could see Namjoon streaking through the crowd towards the clinic from the window he was standing at the same as he could see Yunho being pulled in different directions by glittery children.

“You sure?” Jonghyun asked.

“I’m sure,” Seokjin insisted. “We’re set to have this thing going for another two hours before we can close up. Let me talk to Namjoon, and find out what’s going on with his men and this clinic and everything, and then I’ll come out and join you. I promise.”

Jonghyun hesitated by the door, and he gave Seokjin a raw, worried look as he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay? You know you don’t have to lie to me. You know you can tell me if you’re not actually okay.”

“I know,” Seokjin said, so very appreciative of their friendship. “Thank you for that. But I swear to you, I’m okay and I’m going to stay that way.”

Jonghyun lingered for a moment more, but then he was headed downstairs just in time for Namjoon to find himself in the recovery room.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon demanded, sweeping to Seokjin’s side and lifting him off his feet with a fierce hug. “Are you okay, Jin?”

He’d been startled when Jungkook had done it before, but Namjoon sweeping him off his feet was still something a little magical. He wasn’t going to swoon, but Seokjin could see the appeal of it when Namjoon’s strength showed itself.

“I’m fine,” Seokjin said, and wondered if other people were as tired of hearing it, as he was of saying it. He braced himself against Namjoon and said, “I swear to you. I know when it’s serious, and when I can just take it easy for a while. I just got a pretty bad jump scare. That’s all.”

The worry and concern on Namjoon’s face, expressions he hated to be the one to put there, suddenly morphed into confusion.

“Huh?”

Seokjin tried, “My heart?”

There was spike of fear across Namjoon’s face. “What about your heart? Is it okay?” Namjoon put a heavy, warm hand over Seokjin’s chest, and Seokjin could feel the pressure even through his clothing.

 But Namjoon was acting suddenly like he had no idea Seokjin had nearly had his heart give out on him … and that meant …

Seokjin peered past Namjoon to where Jungkook was standing. His brother had a neutral expression his face, but met his gaze in a bold way.

Seokjin gave him a genuine smile of appreciation.

Of course. Jungkook hadn’t told Namjoon after all. He’d deliberately omitted part of what had happened because Seokjin had asked him to. And even if Jungkook hadn’t agreed with the request, he’d done it all the same. Because Jungkook was Jungkook. And if ever there was someone loyal to Seokjin, it was his little brother.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” Seokjin said.

Namjoon looked like he was going to cling to the confusion for a moment, but then he shook his head and asked, “Someone was in your office?”

Seokjin challenged back, “You let Yoongi get stabbed.”

Namjoon reared back a little and defended, “I didn’t let him get stabbed.”

Jungkook broke in, “Really it was an accident, Jin.”

“I wasn’t even there,” Namjoon said. He hurried to add, “How’s he doing? Jungkook said you got him through surgery and patched up. You’re amazing, you know. Best doctor ever.”

Coming from anyone else, it probably would have sounded like flattery. But from Namjoon, it was just admiration. Namjoon told him all the time he was a brilliant doctor, and he said it in a way that made Seokjin believe it was a heartfelt compliment, and not just him dolling out needless praise.

“He was lucky,” Seokjin said. He took Namjoon to the side of Yoongi’s bed. “If the knife had gone in any deeper, or at any different angle, he could have bled out before I could have even helped him.”

“But you did,” Namjoon snuck in.

Seokjin nodded. “Yunho assisted in the surgery, and we’re confident that there’s no internal bleeding, and the knife didn’t hit anything important. There’s some scraped bone, and cut muscle, but that’s about it. He won’t be running around any time soon, but he’ll fully recover.”

Indicative of the kind of leader he was, and how much he actually cared about his people, Namjoon oozed relief.

Seokjin turned to Jungkook who was lingering by the door and asked, “Does Hyomin know anything about this?” Yoongi’s complete focus had been on his sister, and Seokjin wanted to have answers about her for when Yoongi woke up.

“No,” Jungkook said, shaking his head. “And I think it’s better that way, right? Until he wakes up and can assure her he’s going to be fine. But she’s out there.” Jungkook bounded over to the window and scanned the impressive crowd for a few seconds before he tapped the window and said, “I see her. She’s not fair from where Jimin is.”

Seokjin questioned, “Does Jimin know?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Jungkook said with a shrug. “But everyone will get filled in soon enough.”

About the person being in his office, or about Yoongi getting hurt?

“Huh,” Jungkook commented.

“What?” Seokjin risked a glance to Namjoon, who had his palm on Yoongi’s forehead in a concerned way, then focused on Jungkook.

When Jungkook and Seokjin were standing side by side at the window, Jungkook said, “I can’t believe it. Jimin looks like he actually found someone he likes to talk to.”

Seokjin located him on the far side of the open space and said, “He does actually like people. He’s just … picky.” But there was something to what Jungkook was saying. Because Jimin was leaning up against one of the food trucks, talking in earnest to a tall male who seemed to be comfortable in Jimin’s presence. Maybe the other person was a member of Bangtan, but then Jungkook probably wouldn’t have thought it was such a big deal then. No, this had to be someone completely separate from Bangtan, and Jimin looked so absorbed in the other person it was like a stab of hope to Seokjin’s gut.

He couldn’t make out details on the other person, other than the man’s height and gender, but none of that mattered in the least bit. What mattered was the body language he was seeing, and in particular the way Jimin was leaning into the other person, into what would definitely be considered personal space. And Jimin was talking, talking a lot, and that wasn’t particularly normal for him, either.

It wasn’t like Seokjin expected Jimin to stop loving him over night, or just be able to move onto someone else like it was nothing. But it seemed like he and Jimin had finally hit their stride as friends and maybe even brothers. And that left the door open for Jimin to slowly ease himself away from the feelings he held for Seokjin, and towards a relationship that could be reciprocated, and offer him all the love in the world that he deserved.

Were these baby steps he was witnessing, Seokjin wondered. Maybe, and maybe was good. If Jimin was going to start to move on, it was bound to begin with him finding someone else interesting.

“I guess,” Jungkook admitted. “But he doesn’t like most people. Who is that?”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin mused. “But you’re his roommate. Get it out of him tonight.”

“You sure he’s okay?” Namjoon asked from the bed.

Seokjin veered back towards him and asked bluntly, “Namjoon, what’s going on? Yoongi was seriously injured, I’m certain someone was in my office today, and that’s just a couple of things on a long list of them that have occurred lately. And maybe some of them aren’t connected. But what if even a couple of them are?”

Namjoon visibly hesitated.

“I hardly ever ask,” Seokjin reminded. “I try not to pry. But if Bangtan’s business is coming into the clinic, I have to do something about it. I have to stop it. And to stop it, I have to know what’s going on.”

“Alright,” Namjoon said, giving a sharp nod. He went to the door to the room and leaned around the hallway. He was obviously saying something to someone outside. But he was back in a second, closing the door behind him.

“Should I stay or leave?” Jungkook asked.

“Stay,” Namjoon decided. “Nothing I’m going to tell your brother isn’t something you already don’t know.”

“Namjoon?” Seokjin prompted.

Namjoon looked weary in a heavy way, and then said, “Infinite is surging back.”

“Surging back? What does that mean?” Seokjin didn’t like the sound of it no matter what.

“The remnants,” Namjoon said, “or the rubble. What’s left. Infinite is consolidating, and we know they’re doing this because Myungsoo is flaunting it at us. He’s taunting us with what he’s doing. He isn’t being subtle, and what happened to Yoongi is the last bit of proof we needed.”

Seokjin’s eyes trailed back to Yoongi. “He was hurt by something related to Myungsoo?”

Jungkook broke in then to say, “That’s what the guys claimed, right before they started shooting at us. Yoongi got separated from the rest of us after that, and that’s when he got stabbed. But the guys who were there? They said …”

“Tell him,” Namjoon said, letting out a deep breath.

Jungkook winced and said, “They said for Yoongi and me and the rest of the guys to pass on a message to Rap Mon from Myungsoo.”

Trying to keep his voice steady, Seokjin asked. “What message?”

Jungkook snorted, “The fact that they started shooting at us, and there were three times as many of them as there should have been, and they were well armed, and well-coordinated, and definitely had their shit together.” In a frustrated way, Jungkook ran a hand through his hair. “The message was that they were there, and they overpowered us, and Suga got hurt, and we were the ones that ran.”

Aimlessly, Seokjin looked between the two of them. “How? Sunggyu is dead. Infinite is supposed to be in shambles. How did they get the best of you? How is Myungsoo still a threat?”

“We caught a guy,” Namjoon admitted. “And he … volunteered some information.”

Seokjin did not want to think about how that had gone over. Or what the word volunteered meant in this context.

Namjoon continued, “He said Myungsoo is running the show right now. He’s calling in favors, he’s putting the groundwork back together, and he’s using all the tools at his disposal.”

“How?” Seokjin asked again. “How does he even have any tools?”

“Sunggyu put Infinite together very well,” Namjoon admitted. “He had connections with very powerful gangs, and collected favors like they were candy. Myungsoo’s just reaping what’s left over from people who will honor their promises to Sunggyu, even if he’s gone.”

Jungkook agreed, adding, “It’s kind of embarrassing to admit this, you know, but we totally only won against Infinite because of luck, and because we acted faster than them. They probably would have wiped the floor with us, but we got really lucky.”

Seokjin wondered, “So Myungsoo is running the show now? What about Dongwoo and Hoya?”

“Unknown,” Namjoon admitted. “Myungsoo could really be the person in charge right now, or he could just be the face of what Infinite is doing at the moment. Even from jail, Hoya could be the one pulling the strings. And Dongwoo? Everyone takes him for an idiot, but I guarantee you Sunggyu told him everything, because they were best friends, and Dongwoo was with Sunggyu since the beginning.”

Seokjin did not like the feeling of unease that was rising up in him. “So Infinite wants to go back to war with Bangtan again?”

Namjoon drifted away from the bed and to Seokjin’s side. His fingers caught Seokjin’s and he said, “I have to assume. And today … today showed us that Infinite isn’t as crippled as we thought. They’re not a couple dozen men aimlessly gone to ground here. They’re not leaderless, or unfunded, or anything we thought they were. They’re playing a new game now, Jin, and the worst part is, we’re already several moves behind.”

Jungkook’s fingers were curled into fists as he said, “As long as Hoya and Dongwoo and Myungsoo are alive, Infinite will be something. They’re the leaders. They’re the ones who have the connections and the favors to call in. They’re the problem. We have to get them, or this will never be over.”

Seokjin pointed out, “Hoya is in jail.” His case hadn’t gone to trial though, and it seemed like it would be some time before that happened. Seokjin had been keeping track of that case, for obvious reasons, but it was bogged down a mess of fact gathering and trying to determine which officers could be tied to Infinite, and which could provide honest testimony about what had happened.

“Accidents can happen anywhere,” Namjoon said in a steely way.

Seokjin didn’t comment on that. Instead he steadied himself and posed, “Okay, so what comes next? What do we do?”

Namjoon reached out for him. His fingers went up into the hair at the base of Seokjin’s scalp in a soothing way and he said, “If Infinite wants to call in their reinforcements, then we do the same.  Exo is our best ally right now, but not our only one. I’ve been working hard to build a good relationship with some of the other gangs near us, at least the ones that are willing to talk to me. And while it’ll be impossible to know who’s willing to do favors for Infinite, there are some gangs I know who are completely free of any kind of influence there. So we’ll pull ranks.  We’ll make ourselves strong.  And then we’ll finish what we’ve already set out to do.”

Seokjin voice did waver when he offered, “You’ll go kill the remaining leaders of Infinite.”

Namjoon didn’t flinch away from the look Seokjin was giving him. He held strong as he agreed, “We will find them, and we will kill them. Because there is no other way we survive this, Jin. It is kill or be killed, and you need to accept that.”

Seokjin did not prescribe to that kind of idiom, but was curious to know, “That person who was in our apartment then? Who attacked me?”

“We don’t know about that,” Jungkook offered up.

“I’d guess,” Namjoon told him, “that was Myungsoo testing the waters. That was him trying to see how easily he could get at you, or how easily he could play with us. I think you were a Guinea pig.”

“And today?”

Namjoon shrugged and had no answer for him.

Seokjin tugged his hand free of Namjoon’s grip and scrubbed at his face. “I don’t want to do this again, Namjoon. I don’t want to do this.” He didn’t want to live in constant fear, or be a target, or be something that could be used against anyone in Bangtan.

“I’m going to handle this,” Namjoon swore.

“We barely survived the first time,” Seokjin reminded. “I almost died. Jimin almost died. A lot of people did die. We can’t do this again.”

Namjoon put his hand on the back of Seokjin’s neck and tugged him closer. Seokjin let himself tip forward so his forehead collided with Namjoon’s shoulder.

And at a mumble, barely above a whisper, Namjoon said, “It’s always going to be like this, Jin. Always. I’ve told you this before. Suga has told you this before. You said you understood, but do you really? It’s Infinite today, but it could be anyone else tomorrow. And it will always be someone. There will always be someone. This doesn’t just end. It never ends.”

Seokjin gave a shudder.

“You have to understand that,” Namjoon urged, and there was fear in his voice.

But it wasn’t a typical kind of fear. It wasn’t a fear that made sense right away. Not until he felt Namjoon’s grip on him tighten, like he was terrified Seokjin was going to dash off without so much as a look back.

And that was the root of the fear. Seokjin could sense it plain as day now. Namjoon was terrified that Seokjin wasn’t going to accept what their future would be.

Could he?

Seokjin had told himself time and time again that he loved Namjoon more than he hated whatever Namjoon’s lifestyle would throw at him. He’d convinced himself that there wasn’t anything he couldn’t weather for the sake of Namjoon. Especially since this was something Jungkook was involved in.

But the idea of this being his life every day for the rest of however long he lived?

It was exhausting.

How could they have a normal relationship if it would always be like this? How could Seokjin have a regular life, and keep his clinic safe, or even have a family?

“Namjoon.”

Namjoon squeezed even tighter, almost in a suffocating way.

He swore again, “I will fix this. I’ll take care of it. I’ll—”

It wasn’t about fixing anything. It was about the stamina Seokjin didn’t think he had for this sort of thing to be his life every day. He’d accepted that there would be moments when Namjoon would have to take lives, and do things that Seokjin did not agree with. He’d accepted that there’d be times when things were tense and horrible and dangerous. But he hadn’t stopped to consider, let alone accept, that it would be like this all the time.

All the time.

“Jin,” Jungkook said suddenly.

Seokjin pulled himself back from Namjoon and turned to his brother. “What?”

Jungkook pointed at Yoongi. “I think he’s waking up.”

“He is,” Seokjin said, breathing out some relief, seeing twitches from Yoongi that were giving way to some more movement. It was a little sooner than he’d expected, but he and Yunho had gone easy on anesthesia when they’d realized how lucky Yoongi was with his wound. And now that Yoongi was hooked up to an IV line with a painkiller for any discomfort he might feel post op, he really was free to wake up any time.

“Jin,” Namjoon said in an almost desperate way when Seokjin pulled away. He seemed like he wanted to yank Seokjin back.

But ultimately, he let go as Seokjin made a beeline for Yoongi, and Seokjin felt Namjoon’s touch slip away.

“You may want to get his sister now,” Seokjin told Jungkook. “Try not to scare her, okay? Tell her it’s only a little scratch and that he’ll be back on his feet in no time.”

Jungkook scoffed. “She’s a kid, but she’s not stupid.”

“No,” Seokjin agreed, “but she’s his family, so go extra gentle if you can.”

Jungkook flashed Seokjin a thumbs up.

Seokjin let his attention turn fully to Yoongi then, bending down low and promising him in a soft voice, “You’re okay, Yoongi. Can you wake up for me a little more?”

Yoongi groaned as his eyes cracked open. “Jin?”

“You’re okay,” Seokjin told him again, but he wasn’t sure if any of them were.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

“This is ridiculous,” Seokjin said to Taehyung as he slipped his shoes on. He had his shopping bags down at his side and he was on his way out the door early in the morning to the supermarket. Or he had been, because he wasn’t set to go into the clinic until almost noon that day, and was working extended hours to make up for the closure the day before, when Taehyung had arrived and announced why he was there.

Taehyung, who should have been thankful Seokjin even let him through the front door, was shuffling back and forth on his feet awkwardly.

“Completely ridiculous,” Seokjin concluded.

“Shoot the messenger, why don’t you,” Taehyung whined.

“Namjoon apparently thinks I’m going to be shot if I don’t have someone breathing down my neck at all hours of the day.”

It really wasn’t Taehyung’s fault, and that’s what he reminded himself every time he found himself starting to get angry. It was Namjoon he was supposed to be angry at.

And even that seemed unfair. Because as little as Seokjin liked being treated like a child, he got it. At the end of the day, he always got it.

Yoongi had been stabbed just a day previous, and with it had come almost a formal declaration from Myungsoo that things were just beginning.

Later that night, when the health fair had been over, and Seokjin had been leaving for the day to go back home, Namjoon had been waiting for him. The man had left not long after Yoongi had woken up, but he’d come back before Seokjin left, and he’d take Seokjin down to the Noodle House and sat the down in a table in the corner.

Seokjin had just wanted to go home at that point, but the Noodle House was probably Bangtan’s safest territory in the whole of the neighborhood, and that night it wasn’t full of patrons, it was full of Bangtan members. From the lowest rank, to Jimin and Hoseok across the room, it was full to the brim with only one kind of person.

“You’re not going to want to hear this,” Namjoon had braced.

“Tell me anyway,” Seokjin had said, too tired to argue, and too overwhelmed to fight anymore. He’d declined any food and was just nursing a glass of water.

Namjoon, actually looking apologetic, said, “Suho and I talked and we’re in agreement on something. Something concerning you.”

That gave Seokjin pause. “You talked about me?”

“You’re my greatest weakness,” Namjoon admitted. “I don’t mean that in a derogatory way, okay? I mean, I love you more than anyone else on this planet. You are everything to me. You are the one person I’d do anything for, and the only bad thing about that is that I promise you all my enemies know that. And every single one of them will try to use you to their advantage, if they can. Infinite won’t think twice about it. I promise you they will.”

“I won’t be shut away,” Seokjin said sharply, gripping the glass of water so tightly he was afraid for a half second he might crack it. “Don’t you dare even try it. I love you Namjoon, but I won’t stand for something like that. You will break us if you try.”

There was nothing but seriousness on Namjoon’s face, so Seokjin truly believed he understood what was being said.

“Suho and I,” Namjoon tried again, “want you to steer clear of any place that used to be under Infinite’s control. That’s where they had their foothold, and if Myungsoo is putting it all back together, that’s where he’ll start.”

Seokjin asked, “Almost all of Infinite’s area went to Exo though, right?”

The way he understood it, in the agreement that Namjoon had brokered with Suho, Exo ended up with Infinite’s streets, and Bangtan took over Big Bang’s. It was logistically better that way, considering where each gang originated from. And sure, Seokjin’s old clinic had been in Infinite’s territory, but the new one was staunchly in Bangtan’s.

Only a couple of streets that had belonged to Infinite had ceded back to Bangtan, and Seokjin still didn’t understand that, but he certainly didn’t need to.

Namjoon had agreed, “True, but just … I know there are a couple of places, like restaurants, that you really like that are in that part of town. Suho’s bringing all his boys in tight until we can come down hard to Myungsoo—we have to figure out where he is first, but you’ll be much safer here. So just … just do me a favor, okay? Don’t go to that part of town if you can help it. Myungsoo’s got guys hiding him right now. He’s got allies that we can’t see yet—people that we might think are our allies. So until we’re certain, can you stay away from those areas?”

Seokjin pointed out, “I have to cross through there to get to the hospital where Minah works, and my dentist is over there, and Jungkook’s school is there. I can’t just avoid a large portion of town, Namjoon.”

Across the table Namjoon had reached for him, and it was so instinctive for Seokjin to reach back in turn.

“I’m not telling you not to go anywhere.” Namjoon had chuckled a little and added, “I’ve never be stupid enough to try and tell you anything. I’m asking you to just … steer clear of those places if you can. That’s what I’m asking.”

That didn’t seem like too much to ask. So Seokjin had agreed, and he’d thought that was the end of it.

Until now.

When Taehyung had showed up to play babysitter.

Seokjin asked him, “What are the odds you’ll just turn around and walk away if I ask you to?”

Taehyung gave him a sympathetic look, then said, “Slim to none considering I want to live long enough to enjoy my anniversary with Hoseok next week.”

A smile pulled at Seokjin’s mouth then, even if he didn’t want it to. Hoseok had been a bumbling set of nerves over the upcoming trip, no matter how many times Seokjin had assured him that all the preparations had been made, and he was good to go.

“Namjoon wouldn’t kill you,” Seokjin told him. He added playfully, “He needs you too much right now.”

“That.” Taehyung jabbed a finger at Seokjin. “That right there. I can see him telling me he needs me too much right now, or Hoseok, as a punishment, and ruining our anniversary. No. No way. I’m no taking that chance.”

Seokjin’s eyes narrowed. Namjoon would be doing that over his dead body. He’d put in too much work himself, to make the anniversary a sweet one, for anyone, least of all Namjoon ruin it.

“Actually,” Taehyung said, bouncing a little on his feet, “I asked to be the one here. Rap Mon was just gonna have some of the other guys follow you around a couple steps behind you. But I thought you might want me more, and I could get some last second help with Hobi’s present.”

“Again?” Seokjin asked. He bent to retrieve the shopping bags, and then the both of them were out the door. The grocery store wasn’t too far away, and as May threatened to bleed into June, it was nice enough in the morning that he wanted to walk the distance. “Still? Taehyung, Yoongi and Jungkook and I already walked you through this.”

“I know, I know,” Taehyung said, hopping ahead. “I still need your help organizing everything. I’m terrible at this kind of stuff. I’ll ruin it if you don’t help. Please, Jin.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes. Before Taehyung had asked, he’d known that Seokjin would help.

“Answer me this at least,” Seokjin said. “How long can I expect to have people showing up at my door whenever I want to go anywhere?”

Taehyung made a face at him. “You’re really predictable, Jin. Rap Mon could hand out schedules to everyone, and you probably wouldn’t deviate very much. You kinda do the same stuff at the same time every day. You’re predictable. So it’s not like anyone is spying on you. Rap Mon just knows that on the days you don’t go into the clinic early to open, you tend to run chores like grocery shopping.”

“I am not predictable,” Seokjin said sharply. “I just happen to have a routine. I don’t live my life chaotically like you do. I doubt you even know what day of the week it is right now.”

Taehyung stuck his tongue out at Seokjin. “Monday, actually.”

“Routines are good,” Seokjin pressed on. “Stability is good.”

“Booorrrrring.”

Seokjin watched Taehyung stumble a little as the pavement shifted heights due to recent construction. He didn’t laugh when Taehyung almost had a mouth full of asphalt, but the temptation was there.

Instead, Seokjin demanded, “How long is this going to go on?”

Taehyung pointed out, “Suga got stabbed yesterday! I’m an actual member of Bangtan and Hobi’s been extra … hovery lately.”

“Hovery?” Seokjin questioned.

Taehyung nodded. “You know, that thing that boyfriends do when they want to smother you with safety, but they know if they try you’ll punch them or something. Hovery. He’s always asking me where I’m going now, and who I’m going with, and how long I’m going to be gone. He’s kind of driving me crazy, you know, and this is Hobi we’re talking about. He sounds like a stalker, but he’s just Hobi.”

Softly, Seokjin said, “He loves you and he’s worried.”

“I can definitely take care of myself,” Taehyung protested.

“So could Yoongi.”

They walked a little longer before Taehyung assured him, “You know Rap Mon is gonna stop being really knee jerky, right? Like, he’s freaking out right now, but he’ll get his footing any second. And then you won’t have to deal with people like me just showing up to walk you to the grocery store.”

“I don’t mind you showing up,” Seokjin insisted. “I mind the reason behind it.”

Again, Taehyung said, “Just give him time. A little time. We all thought that the matter with Infinite was done, or was going to be done really soon. We thought we’d round the stragglers up and take care of business. No one thought Myungsoo was going to come back at us. Not him of all people.”

“Why not him?” It really was a curious thing, actually. Seokjin had had very little contact with Myungsoo in general, but from what he had, he knew that the other male chose his words carefully, was not impulsive, and strayed away from conflict. He didn’t seem the type to lead a gang, or rebuild one. Still, he’d always seemed calculating in a way, sneaky even. Maybe he was the kind to snatch up an opportunity.

Taehyung hummed, then said, “From my experience, he never really seemed like the go get’em type. You know what I mean? Hoya always pushed at people. And Dongwoo probably knows everything about everything concerning Infinite. But Myungsoo? That guy was always just in the background, doing as he was told, not rocking the boat. No one would think he’d be capable of this, until now, of course.”

Seokjin posed, “Namjoon thinks maybe he’s not really pulling the strings.”

“Possible,” Taehyung said. “The point is, we don’t know enough right now to rule anything out. That’s why Rap Mon is doing this, and freaking out, and treating you like you’re glass. But he will calm down. Things will go back to normal.”

But what was normal? Was Namjoon’s standard for normal really normal?

Still, in light of everything that had happened, Seokjin said, “I’m going to give this a little more leeway. Like you said, you guys don’t know enough about what’s happening, so everyone is being reactionary. Right now, I can be patient.”

Not forever, but for the moment, he could do it.

“Good, good.” Taehyung looked relieved. But then the expression was gone in a second, and worry was back as he said, “Now help me with Hobi’s present.

“I don’t know what you think you need help with,” Seokjin drawled out as they walked along. “You had a great idea for a present after all, and all the tools to make it perfect.”

Taehyung gave him a look that broadcasted loudly he wasn’t amused. “I’m really double thinking your supportive parent vibe, Jin. A scrap book is a terrible, stupid, ridiculous idea. Hobi is going to buy something expensive and wonderful, and I’ll just have some stupid book for him.”

Sharply, Seokjin said, “Hey, that’s not fair to say. If I had my choice between something Namjoon made me with love, and something he bought that had a fancy price tag, you can probably guess which one I’d prefer. And I’d bet you anything Hoseok is exactly the same way. Presents that are thoughtful, and comfort the heart, and are made up of love, are always better. And it’s not just some stupid scrapbook you’re making. You’re going to be giving him a chronicle—a record of your relationship together. You thought that up all on your own, and I think it’s great.”

Taehyung grumbled, “You would. You’re such a dad, Jin.”

And Taehyung was such a hoarder. But that was working to his advantage in this situation. Taehyung, by his own admittance and from what Seokjin had seen, kept practically everything. Hoseok never complained, but that probably had a lot more to do with how much he loved Taehyung, than anything else. And it didn’t detract from the fact that their apartment was filled with often meaningless things that were piling up everywhere. Their apartment certainly wasn’t dirty, and Taehyung wasn’t hoarding trash. But items … he never seemed to throw out items that he’d had contact or use for in any way.

Seokjin hadn’t confronted him on the noticeable behavior, and mostly because he thought it had a lot to do with Taehyung’s childhood. A long time ago, or at least what felt like a long time ago, Namjoon had told Seokjin about Taehyung’s issue with food. It had always been noticeable how often Taehyung ate, even when he wasn’t hungry, and how possessive over it he could be. Namjoon had told Seokjin how Taehyung had grown up dirt poor, and often starved, and that had created an unhealthy relationship with food.

It seemed like that extended to personal items as well.

But in this case, it was working to Taehyung’s advantage. Because Taehyung still had the ticket to the movie he’d been at when he and Hoseok had officially acknowledged their feelings for each other. He had the souvenir tickets from their first date, pictures from all the important events of their first year together, the ice skate rental receipt from the time they’d gone skating together, and a million other little pieces to their relationship.

“Just …” Seokjin tried to coach him, “just start at the beginning. When you get home, if you have time, lay everything out chronologically. Put it all in order and then take it step by step. Build each page in the book one by one. Don’t try and see the big picture yet, just focus on each little one.”

“Start at the beginning he says,” Taehyung groaned out.

Had he been wrong? Seokjin asked, “You said you still had that movie ticket, right? That was the start for you guys. What’s wrong?”

Taehyung’s walk certainly had less pep then as he said softly, “You want me to start a book about our relationship out with a ticket stub to a movie I went to with someone else?”

“Yes,” Seokjin said honestly, “because you didn’t leave with the person you came with.”

Voice pitching in a dangerously worried way, Taehyung demanded, “But will Hobi see it like that? Or will it just be a shitty reminder of the fact that he was right there in front of me for ages and I never saw him?”

So this was what it was really about. This wasn’t about Taehyung being worried about his present. All of this was about Taehyung’s insecurity over his relationship with Hoseok.

“Taehyung,” Seokjin said kindly, the supermarket coming into sight as they turned a corner, “you can’t beat yourself up over that. Sometimes the hardest things to see are right in front of us. And what matters now is that you and Hoseok are an amazing couple. Your relationship is strong and real, and that’s all that matters. You love him, right?”

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to bob his head.

“Then make the scrap book and show him how much.”

Seokjin knew he’d hit home when the bounce was back in Taehyung’s step.

But he couldn’t help asking, “Why did you overlook Hoseok when you were younger? Did you just genuinely not notice him?”

Taehyung made a thoughtful sound, then supposed, “Hobi’s kind of like the support beams in your house, you know?”

“No?” Seokjin laughed out.

Taehyung pressed on, “Think about it, Hobi is … he’s the backbone of anything in a lot of ways. He’s reliable and dependable, he doesn’t buckle under pressure, and like the support beams of a house, you never really notice he’s there until he isn’t—and then everything comes toppling down. That’s how I missed him, I think. Hobi doesn’t stand out. He’s not that kind of person. But he’s the only kind of person you’d want to have, because when you can’t hold yourself up, he does it for you.”

There was warmth blossoming in Seokjin’s chest at the mere thought of how in love the two of them were, so he couldn’t help teasing, “You’d better make that present of his extra good, because he put a lot into your anniversary trip, and it’s going to be amazing.”

“Jiiiinnnnnn!” Taehyung wailed dramatically. “You can’t tease me like this. Don’t do this to me.”

Seokjin let himself laugh loudly as the phone in his pocket vibrated.

“Your boyfriend calling to check in on you?” Taehyung teased.

Seokjin shot back, “Has yours yet?”

Taehyung returned to flouncing ahead, calling back, “Hobi is nowhere near as bad as Rap Mon.”

Taehyung pulled ahead even more as Seokjin reached into his pocket for his phone and retrieved it. He hadn’t received a phone all, but instead he’d gotten a text message, and one from Jonghyun at that.

Worry set in right away when he saw the content of the message, and the request for help that Jonghyun was sending.

Seokjin wasted no time stepped off to the side of the crosswalk to call the clinic. Ahead of him Taehyung noticed that he wasn’t following after anymore, and was doubling back with a worried look.

“What’s going on?” Seokjin asked the moment he had Jonghyun on the line. He’d opted at the last second to call the man’s personal cell phone, just in case it was specifically a matter between them. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re in at noon today, right?” Jonghyun asked.

“Yes,” Seokjin said slowly. Everything sounded normal on Jonghyun’s end. “Why?” He shook himself then, remembering to ask, “Wait, you texted me an emergency. What’s the emergency?”

“The emergency is,” Jonghyun told him in a tempered tone, “that you may need to come in early.”

Seokjin tried to stop himself from imagining all kinds of terrible reasons for such a thing.

“Why?” he asked, waving off Taehyung when the other male pressed if there was a problem. He mouthed the word ‘work’ at Taehyung and continued to Jonghyun, “Did someone call in?” Their staff were notoriously good about not calling in too often. Maybe they didn’t even call in often enough. He thought back to Hongbin not feeling well and coming to work anyway.

Slowly, evenly, Jonghyun said, “You may need to come into work early because I’m pretty sure I’m going to jail for murder in about five minutes.”

That … that was not what Seokjin had expected to hear.

“Excuse me?”

Jonghyun grumbled out, “You remember when Yunho asked us to put a little work ethic into his cousin? You remember when he said all we needed to do was be a little tough on him—straighten him out, and in return he’d owe us a favor?”

That was right. Seokjin had forgotten about Yunho’s cousin Samuel. He had been set to start that morning, and Yunho must have already dropped him off.

Seokjin cautioned, “Yunho did warn us he’s something of a brat. I take it that’s holding true?”

“I’m going to go to jail for murder,” Jonghyun repeated. “I’m going to strangle this kid to death and I won’t even be sorry a little bit.”

Holding back a laugh, Seokjin asked, “It’s only nine-thirty in the morning. What could he have possibly done already to make you feel that way?”

“What could he have done?” Jonghyun repeated, voice going thin. “First of all, you have to see this kid. He showed up for work like he was going to be walking the runway. I’m talking the whole shebang. Tight pants, jewelry, makeup!”

“Jonghyun,” Seokjin tried. “That’s fine. Come on. Let the kid dress however he wants. We’re not the fashion police.”

Next to him, Taehyung snorted and gave Seokjin’s own clothing a look over before saying, “That’s for sure.”

Seokjin reached out and pinched him, urging Jonghyun, “Just put him in some spare scrubs and have him take the jewelry off. I promise you he’ll wash his own makeup off the moment he starts breaking a sweat cleaning something and it runs.”

“Oh, I tried,” Jonghyun cut back. “He told me that he didn’t have a choice if he wanted to be there or not, but he wasn’t going to be at the clinic looking lame like the rest of the people who worked there.”

Seokjin did laugh then. “Well, he’s definitely a teenager.”

Jonghyun continued, “I asked him to wash the windows out front, because we had all those people outside yesterday touching everything, and he told me he didn’t want his nail polish to chip from the chemicals. His nail polish! It’s black!”

“You were never a teenager, were you?” Seokjin asked. He’d never painted his own nails, but he knew teenagers could be edgy. They pushed boundaries just for the sake of pushing them. And teenagers who were confident in themselves expressed that through creativity, often in their own appearance. Seokjin had been too preoccupied with trying to get through school as fast as possible to ever really stop to consider expressing himself through his appearance, but he’d had plenty of friends that did.

“He says he doesn’t do bathrooms, and he has to take a break every fifteen minute, and then, and THEN—”

Seokjin could hear the rise in urgency in Jonghyun’s voice.

“—then,” Jonghyun ranted on, and at a level that Seokjin knew Taehyung could hear, “he told me he’d been looking up labor laws in Korea, and he knew what his rights were, and that we couldn’t legally hire him without a work visa, and—”

“Jonghyun,” Seokjin tried.

Jonghyun charged on, “—told me that he knew exactly where the American embassy was, and that maybe he’d consider not getting us shut down if we negotiated his pay rate. HIS PAY RATE!  We are not paying him anything!”

Seokjin glanced at Taehyung and said, “I guess he found out his credit cards got cut off.”

He could hear Jonghyun breathing heavily before he repeated again, “I am going to murder him Seokjin, if you don’t come down here early and save me. I’m going to murder him and then Yunho is going to be upset, but that bastard did this to us, so maybe he knew all along how it would end.”

Seokjin finally got started back into the grocery store, and Taehyung lifted a basket for him to use.

“I’m grocery shopping right now,” Seokjin told Jonghyun. “But how about this. I need to go back home and do a couple more things, but I’ll call Yunho when I get there.”

“Call him?” Jonghyun practically seethed. “I already tried that. His phone is conveniently off.”

Seokjin didn’t think for a second that Yunho was deliberately ignoring Jonghyun’s phone calls. Yunho wasn’t that kind of person. It was more likely that Yunho had gotten a taste of freedom from his cousin, and was capitalizing on it. He’d still be back to pick the kid up in the evening. He wasn’t abandoning his cousin.

“Jin,” Taehyung whispered, drawing his attention. He held up a box of sweets that he clearly wanted, and eyed the basket. “Please!”

“You have your own money,” Seokjin whispered back. “Buy it for yourself.”

Taehyung pouted. “It tastes better when someone else buys it for you.”

It was like shopping with Jungkook. Shopping with Taehyung was identical to shopping with Jungkook. And clearly, as he gave Taehyung a nod and tried not to judge himself for it, he was just as weak to Taehyung as he was to Jungkook.

“Jin, are you listening?” Jonghyun asked

“I am,” Seokjin promised.

“This isn’t me just bitching,” Jonghyun said sharply. “This is a disruption in the flow of serenity in our clinic.”

Seokjin paused. “Did you really just say that?”

Again, he could hear Jonghyun breathing deeply, calming himself. And then his friend was saying, “Jin, our clinic works for a reason. Everyone is in their place, doing what they’re supposed to be doing, and working within the system that we have painstakingly built up. We could fly by the seat of our pants when we were just this tiny little place and three of us worked there. We’re much bigger now. We’re responsible for so much more. And we’ll lose control quickly if we let anything disrupt the way we do things. Tell me I’m wrong. Think about it and try and tell me I’m wrong.”

The thing was, the situation did sound rather funny. Jonghyun was known for getting a little worked up over small things, but he really wasn’t wrong. Their clinic was on the edge of something now. They were breaking into something bigger than they’d ever been before, and they had to keep tight control on the way things were run.

“Where is he right now? Samuel?”

Jonghyun answered, “On yet another break. He’s been on break longer than he’s actually been working. And by working, I mean complaining about all the things he’s not going to do.”

“You know,” Seokjin pointed out, “Yunho did say we could go rough on him. I’m not saying you’ve got permission to pick him up and throw him into the bathroom you’d like him to clean. But don’t be afraid to lay down the law. You’re in charge, Jonghyun. Remind him if you have to.”

“So he can pony up with a lawyer like he’s already threatened?”

Who was this kid?

“He’s not going to get a lawyer,” Seokjin said. He was reminded suddenly that Jonghyun hadn’t practically raised a child like Seokjin had. He didn’t know how and why his buttons were being pushed. “He’s testing you. He’s an American kid, whose cousin dropped him off with a bunch of strangers, and he has no money. He’s probably lonely and angry, Jonghyun. So he’s testing you. If he pushes at you, push back.”

“Push back,” Jonghyun said with disbelief.

Seokjin found himself almost compelled to take pity on Jonghyun. So he said, “Okay, okay. I’ll come in early. Eleven?”

“Eleven,” Jonghyun agreed, breathing out in relief. “I’ll cover an extra long lunch for you. But thank you. You have to do something about this kid. Or else he will be dead by tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you later,” Seokjin told him. “Just keep your cool until I get there. Or hand Samuel off to one of the other doctors. Hongbin is probably the closest to him in age, but Yoona is definitely not someone you say no to—she can handle him.”

Sounding apologetic, Jonghyun said, “Okay. See you.”

“Problems at work?” Taehyung asked as they continued their way through the store.

Seokjin slipped items into the basket Taehyung was carrying, and said, “You could say that. We have a new … intern … and it doesn’t seem to be working out too well.”

Taehyung gave an easy shrug. “Just fire him. It’s your clinic.”

Seokjin nudged Taehyung towards some healthier food and said, “It’s not that simple. But I do need to get back there sooner than usual, so let’s get on with the shopping.”

It didn’t take too long for him to get what he needed for the next few days’ worth of cooking, and then when he got back to his apartment, he was finally able to persuade Taehyung to leave him on his own.

It was Namjoon’s turn to do the laundry, so Seokjin made sure all of his washable clothing was placed in the hamper, and then he let himself indulge a little in surfing the internet aimlessly before getting himself ready for work.

Contrary to what a disaster Jonghyun had made it seem like he’d be walking into, when Seokjin entered the clinic, everything was running smoothly. It was business as usual.

“Where is he?” Seokjin asked after waiting a few minutes for Jonghyun to come out of an examination room with a patient.

Jonghyun looked even more sorry now than he’d sounded on the phone as he said, “I really appreciate you coming down here, Jin. He’s been on his phone for about an hour now in the employee lounge. But he’s been threatening to leave for the past fifteen. He guilt tripped Lizzy about not having a lunch, so she lent him some money to buy something, and we all think he’s going to make a break for it.”

Seokjin asked, “How much did she give him?”

“Not a ton,” Jonghyun replied, “but probably enough to get him within walking distance of where he’s staying in Seoul. And I can’t stand that little punk, Jin, but if he leaves the clinic and something happens to him, that’s on us. Or at least it’ll feel like it’s on me.”

Seokjin reminded, “You’re working late so I can take an extra long lunch break tonight.”

Jonghyun crossed his fingers. “I swear.”

With a firm nod, Seokjin set of to find Samuel.

He was, exactly like Jonghyun had said, in the employee break room. He was stretched out on the sofa by the window, with his shoes on, fully engrossed in his phone.

“Kim Samuel?”

Seokjin shut the door behind him to give them some privacy.

The teen, Samuel, glanced over at him. His gaze lingered for more than a second, then he asked, “Who are you?”

Seokjin said, taking even steps forward, “This is my clinic.”

That seemed to peak Samuel’s attention. He sat up and swung his legs to the floor, remarking, “Oh. You’re Jin.”

There were a couple of chairs, the big plushy kind that Seokjin liked to sink into, facing the sofa, so Seokjin took a seat there. But he was all business when he said, “I know you’re from America, Samuel, and in America relationships between people can often be casual and lax. But in case your cousin failed to mention it, here in Korea, things are different. I’m your elder, and more than that, I’m someone you have no relationship with, and do not know. So you will address me properly, you will show respect, and you will start now.”

Samuel’s mouth fell open a little, and when he spoke next, he muttered something in English that Seokjin didn’t catch.

“Yunho,” Seokjin said once there was silence between them, “has been very clear about what he wants you to get out of your trip to Korea. And your family agrees, because he has their blessing for this.”

Samuel sat up even straighter, almost in a defensive way and snapped back, “I was supposed to come to Korea on vacation.”

“As a present for nearly failing your sophomore year at school?”

Samuel flushed in embarrassment.

This wasn’t a bad kid, Seokjin decided in an instance. This was just a kid who’d gotten his way for too long, and hadn’t had enough discipline, and needed a strong helping hand.

“You came here,” Seokjin told him, “because you need to learn a couple of things, and your parents can’t teach you. Yunho can’t teach you.”

“You can teach me?” Samuel leveled back.

“Hard work can teach you,” Seokjin replied.

Samuel gestured, “Cleaning toilets? What kind of lesson is that?”

Seokjin met his gaze and said harshly, “That even when there are things you don’t want to do, you have to do them anyway. Because maybe someone asked you to do it. Or maybe it’s your responsibility. But growing up means taking accountability for yourself and your actions. In your case, it means respecting your parents, and going to class, and bringing home good grades. Your cousin says you’re smart, Samuel, but that you don’t apply yourself. He says you only do the things you want to do. Do you know who acts like that? Children do.”

Samuel shot up to his feet. “I didn’t come here to get lectured.”

“Then leave.” Seokjin nodded to the door.

“Just leave?” Samuel looked at him suspiciously. “You’re just going to let me leave?”

“Of course I am.” Seokjin nodded once more to the door. “Go on. As you wanted to remind the other employees who work here, and disrespectfully so I should add, you’re not a Korean citizen. You’re not officially employed here. None of us are responsible for you here. None of us here are your family. You can leave at any moment.”

Samuel looked to the door and Seokjin wondered if his gamble was going to pay off.

To increase his chances, he hedged, “But where are you going to go? I know your parents cut you off financially while you’re here in Korea, and Yunho said you’re not heading back to California until the beginning of July. I suppose if you call your cousin, he’ll come get you. And then he’ll take you to stay with family. You’ll likely end up cooped up inside all day, with no money and no friends and no where to go, not to mention nothing to do. If that sounds better to you, go right ahead and leave.”

Samuel seemed to wilt before him, looking even younger than his sixteen years as he sat back on the sofa. He asked Seokjin, “So I should stay here and clean bathrooms instead?”

“You should stay here,” Seokjin said, “because this is where your cousin wants you, and this is where he thinks it’s best for you to be. Yunho is not an impulsive person. He’s not careless or thoughtless. If he thinks you’ll get something important out of being here, then don’t you think you should give him the benefit of the doubt?”

Samuel didn’t answer. Instead he sat on the sofa, turning a ring against his finger, looking deep in thought.

Kindly, Seokjin told him, “You’re looking at this place like a punishment. You’re looking at it like a prison. But we help people here, and that includes you. You won’t just be cleaning toilets—though that is a very important thing because people deserve clean restrooms and we also need to keep the clinic clean for obvious reasons.  We asked you to clean the restrooms earlier, that’s true. But that won’t be your only job responsibility.”

A frown on his face, Samuel said, “I want to see Korea. This is where my mom is from. I want to see the city and have fun.”

“You’re not a child anymore,” Seokjin reminded. “You’re old enough now to know that if you want to be rewarded, you have to put in the hard work first. No one here is saying you can’t enjoy your time in Korea. But you need to be responsible and you need to understand what your obligations are. You’re not expected to work on the weekends. That time is yours. But on the days you are here, you need to pull your weight, just like everyone else. This only works if everyone does what they’re supposed to do, and does it well.”

Again, Samuel went back to twisting the ring on his finger. Seokjin wondered how long it had been since anyone had pushed back on him. He wondered how long it had been since someone called the teenager’s bluff, or spoke bluntly to him.

Then, unexpectedly, Samuel asked, “You said I’d do other things here, right? Not just clean toilets?”

Seokjin fought hard not to smile and informed him, “You wouldn’t just be cleaning toilets. Actually, we have a rotating schedule of who handles the bathrooms. So some days, yes, you might be cleaning bathrooms. But other days you might be moping the floors, or washing windows, or dusting, or helping out if someone has an accident of any kind in the waiting room. There’s also a lot of quick prep that needs to be done before patients are seen in the examination rooms, and after. At the end of the day, we might need you to pick up around the clinic.”

The was genuine curiosity on Samuel’s face as he asked, “Why not just hire a janitor or cleaning crew?”

“Because we’re on a budget,” Seokjin told him simply. “We do have a professional cleaning crew that comes in after surgeries and medical procedures to keep everything safe to use, but for day to day operations, we can cut costs by doing it ourselves.” He leveled a blunt look at Samuel. “No one here is too good to clean a bathroom. Your cousin was cleaning bathrooms at our old locations, and I have cleaned bathrooms here. But by doing a lot of the cleaning ourselves, we can put money towards better helping our clients, or treating the staff to lunch, or anything else we want to.”

“Oh,” Samuel eased out.

“That’s what we do here,” Seokjin said. “We make sacrifices in some areas, to benefit others. And that is what you can be a part of. That’s what we’re graciously offering to you here. Yes, you will clean bathrooms. And if you’re with us here, then you’re going to show respect to your elders and absolutely everyone who comes through those doors in the front.  But you’ll also be one of us. You’ll be someone we consider part of our family. You’ll come out to lunch with us. You’ll be someone we want to talk to when we’re on break. And you’ll be someone we value as a person, and as a worker. That’s the choice you have here. Grow up and start acting like the person you’re expected to be, or go running back to your cousin and sit in a house for the next five weeks. Make the call.”

Seokjin got up himself, then. He walked steadily to the door and opened it.

“Doctor Kim?”

Seokjin turned back to him and added as a warning, “No one here is going to baby you. I want you to understand that before you make your choice. No one will let you get away with the things you’re used to getting away with. We’ll demand only the best of you, and we will work you hard. If you stay, you’re staying to work. But maybe you’re also staying because a part of you wants to be better, too, and you know this is a way you can do it.”

A small but encouraging smile appeared on Samuel’s face, and he offered up, “You sound like some Disney movie.”

Seokjin grinned back and said, “This is definitely isn’t a Disney movie. Because Samuel? If you stay and you screw with this clinic, its staff, or my patients in any way, I’ll hand you back to your cousin in pieces. And do not test me on that.”

He didn’t stop to wait for anything Samuel might have to say to that. Instead he pushed through the door, stepped out into the hallway, and pulled the door closed behind him.

And then he turned to face the crowd of people who were waiting for him in that hallway.

Startled to see almost all of the staff on call, including Jonghyun, Hongbin, Raina, Yoona, Lizzy, Moonbin and Jessica. Seokjin asked, “Is anyone actually working here?”

Jonghyun said nonchalant, “Joy’s holding down the fort and Irene’s in a consult right now.”

Jessica said in an amused way, “Krystal is going to be so mad she missed this today.”

“Missed what?” Seokjin asked. He attempted to move past them, but Moonbin and Jessica crashed their shoulders together to prevent it from happening.

At the same time, Jonghyun asked, “Did you tell that little brat you’re going to throw him out on the streets if he doesn’t get it together?”

“Jonghyun.” Seokjin shook his head. “I told him that if he wants a place here, and he’s willing to work hard, he has it. I told him he can be a part of this family, if he’s willing to shape up. But I also told him he can go any time he wants, otherwise. I think we should give him a little time to think it over.” When no one moved, Seokjin sighed and said, “That’s me subtly telling you all to get back to work.”

There was a wave of grumbling, but quickly enough, everyone but Jonghyun went.

“You really said he could stay?” Jonghyun asked Seokjin.

“If he gets it together,” Seokjin relayed. “But he may just walk through those doors and leave, Jonghyun. The point is, I’ve left the choice up to him.”

Jonghyun made a face. “Isn’t that half the problem with him? That he’s been making his own choices for too long?”

Seokjin patted him on the shoulder as he walked by. “That’s why this is important. We get to see if he’s going to make the first responsible choice for himself he’s probably made ever, or if he wants to keep behaving like a child.”

He felt Jonghyun’s eyes following him down the hall as he man called after him, “You’re going to be one hell of a scary dad one day, Jin.”

Seokjin bit back some laughter and got to work.

And though he’d extended the opportunity for redemption to Samuel, he truly wasn’t sure how the teenager was going to sway. He wanted to think his words had gotten through, but it was hard to tell. And teenagers could be fickle by default.

That was why, twenty minutes later when he was just about to head into an examination room to see his first patient of the day, he was pleasantly surprised to see Samuel come into his line of sight. The teen was bleeding anxiety, gnawing on his bottom lip worriedly, as he offered Seokjin a little wave.

“Come to a decision?” Seokjin asked. He’d held off calling Yunho just yet. He’d decided to wait for Samuel to make his choice, before cluing Yunho in on anything.

Samuel took a visible, deep breath, and asked, “I was told there were some bathrooms that needed to be cleaned.”

Trying not to let it show too much on his face, though he was terribly proud of a boy he’d only known a couple of minutes, he waved at Joy and beckoned her over. Then he told Samuel, “Let’s get you some supplies and protective gear, okay? And then when you’re finished check in with myself or one of the other senior staff so you can get the okay to go to lunch. I know Lizzy lent you some money for lunch, and if you ask her nicely, she might even show you the best place to get some.”

A small but building smile broke out on Samuel’s face. “Thanks, Doctor Kim.”

Seokjin replied, “Welcome aboard.”


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Seokjin truly hated to set himself up for any kind of jinx, but as the week progressed and May became June, things fell into place. For all intents and purposes, everything seemed absolutely normal, nothing catastrophic happened, and Seokjin’s guard fell little by little.

Maybe a part of him, after the information that Myungsoo was trying to resurrect Infinite, expected something explosive to happen. He’d in part expected a big power play from the remaining members of Infinite, or an attack of some kind, or just … something.

But nothing had happened. Seokjin went to work day after day, and came home to the news of nothing important happening at all. Namjoon was still furiously trying to hunt down an emboldened Myungsoo, but progress had stalled, and everything was falling quiet.

On top of that, Seokjin had zero complaints about Samuel as the clinic’s newest intern. Though he’d certainly gotten off to a rocky start, and even Seokjin hadn’t been sure he’d be up to the demands of the job, he’d come through in a spectacular way. He’d started showing up to work in clothes that were still fashionable, but severely toned down, and most of his jewelry and nail polish had vanished until after his shift was over.

“Come on, admit it,” Seokjin had ribbed to Jonghyun a full week after Samuel begun working at the clinic. “It’s driving you up the wall to have to admit that the kid is a good worker.”

Samuel still grumbled a little, and often complained about the smell of the cleaning chemicals, but Seokjin thought that was a fair trade off to the teenager showing up to work every day on time, working his full shift, and being at least relatively respectful to both the employees and the patients.

“I’ll admit no such thing,” Jonghyun had protested, but Seokjin had seen him a day previous, tossing Samuel a drink from the vending machine and telling him he’d done a good job on the windows in the front.

Samuel was a good fit for the clinic, even if he was a little temperamental, and even Yunho said he was noticing a difference.

So as the week came to a close, and Seokjin relished in the tentative plans he had with Namjoon to go out on a mini date that weekend, he let his hopes rise. Myungsoo was absolutely still out there. And Seokjin took his attempt to build Infinite back up very seriously. But normalcy seemed to be the flavor of the passing days now, and that was something he could get behind.

On Saturday, with the Clinic hours starting to wind down and the flow of patients thinning, Seokjin swung by Jonghyun’s office and told him, “I’m going to go do a couple of house calls, okay?”

The clinic was much larger now than it used to be, but Seokjin had promised himself from the start he’d never abandon any of his patients. And he had a handful of them who were too elderly, or disabled, to make the trip to his clinic. So occasionally he went to them, and it wasn’t a service he was ever going to abandon. It was a little unorthodox, but he figured that was what made the clinic special.

“You out for the rest of the night?” Jonghyun asked.

Seokjin nodded. “See you tomorrow?”

Jonghyun raised a hand. “See you tomorrow. Good luck with the traffic.”

The best part of things seemingly going normal for a while, Seokjin decided as he walked the distance from clinic to the carpark, was that Namjoon’s anxiety had greatly reduced his overprotective tendencies. There were still members of Bangtan milling around the clinic from time to time, particularly when he was off or starting, but they weren’t lurking around in the building. And he wasn’t getting followed to and from the store or any other errand he was running.

He made two house calls after leaving the clinic, each of them taking around half an hour, and then he headed to his real destination.

When he knocked on the door to Yoongi’s house, he was pleasantly surprised to have Hyomin answer the door.

He gave her an earnest grin and greeted, “There’s my favorite girl.”

She hugged him tightly around the waist and said excitedly, “Hi Doctor Jin. I missed you. Did Yoongi tell you I loved your health fair? It was the best.”

“I bet it was boring,” Seokjin said, waiting for her to detach so he could come fully in the house. He hardly ever came to Yoongi’s personal residence, but when he did, he always enjoyed the warm, familial feeling it gave off. Yoongi was the only member of Bangtan who lived at home with his family, and Seokjin liked that he did. He liked the way Yoongi valued his family, and how hard he worked to extend Bangtan’s protection to his family despite how separate he kept the two of them.

“Was not,” she insisted, smiling bright, pretty brown eyes up at him.

“You don’t have to lie,” Seokjin teased. “You had to do all kinds of learning.”

She protested almost in an insulted way, “I love learning! You believe me, Doctor Jin, right?”

Seokjin took pity on her almost right away, because he was so fond of her, and because he knew it was true. He let her pull him along as he said, “Well, you do get very good marks in school, so I’m willing to believe you this time.”

She gave a cheer and was insanely precious as she gave a small dance.

She was so radically different from Yoongi it was almost impossible to imagine they were full blooded siblings. But even if their behaviors were so completely different, they looked so alike it was startling. Hyomin’s face was softer and very feminine—extremely pretty actually (Seokjin offered his condolences to the first boy who made a move on her), but she shared all the same features as Yoongi. And they had a lot of the same mannerisms.

“Tell me,” he requested as they walked the long hallway down to Yoongi’s bedroom, “has your brother been a good patient, or a terrible one? You’re my acting nurse, remember? You have to tell me the truth about whether he’s been staying in bed or not.”

Seokjin absolutely knew Yoongi had not been staying in bed nearly as long as he was supposed to. For the first couple of days, at least, Yoongi had been on heavy pain medication and still so delicate that he was almost confined to bed. But over the past couple of days Jungkook had spilled the beans on how much he was on his feet, and so Seokjin wanted to know if he was going to cop to it or not.

“Terrible,” she said in a dramatic way. “He won’t listen to me at all when I say he has to take it easy. I told him you made me his nurse, but he’s being a jerk.”

Seokjin palmed a hand down the back of her head and encouraged, “You know your brother. You have to work extra hard to get him to take it easy. He’s always a work in progress. Just keep trying. He’ll give into you eventually. You’re too cute not to.”

Hyomin gave a squeal of delight.

When Seokjin got to Yoongi’s door he knocked sharply with his knuckles, and then he pushed open the door when Yoongi’s voice echoed through the wood for him to come in.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been in Yoongi’s house, but it was the first time he was in the other male’s room. And it was … so very Yoongi. It was minimalist in every way, and far too clean for a typical male his age. But there were a couple of surprising things in the room, like a professional and pricey looking keyboard in the corner of the room, and a couple of photos littered around of friends and family.

Seokjin recalled that Jungkook had actually said once that Yoongi was musically inclined, so that explained the keyboard. But the pictures? Yoongi didn’t seem the overly emotional or attached type, but he had the photos to contrast that assumption. They weren’t even flattering photos of himself, either, but they were displayed proudly like they meant everything to him.

“How are you?” Seokjin asked, setting his bag down on the floor next to the bed Yoongi was sitting up in, his back against the headboard. Seokjin moved the chair from the desk across the room to the bed, and sat on it. “Your sister tells me you’ve been a terrible patient to her.”

Yoongi leveled at Seokjin, “You created a monster in my sister. You gave her a taste of power and suddenly she thinks she’s the older sibling.”

“Jerk!” Her head popped around the corner to reveal her sticking her tongue out at him.

“Close that door,” Yoongi told Seokjin.

“You’re supposed to be nice to me,” she told him. “Mom said you have to, and Doctor Jin said I’m cute, so if you’re mean to me, people will be mad at you.”

Seokjin bit back laugher as Yoongi flung a pillow at her. It wasn’t nearly as hard as he was capable of, even injured, but it was an impressive throw all the same.

“Don’t act like a victim!” Yoongi shouted at her. “I know where you sleep.”

Hyomin vowed, “I’ll tell Doctor Jin everything! I tell him how you’re not staying in bed like you’re supposed to, and how you’ve been going out at night every night!”

Yoongi’s head swung towards Seokjin as he said flatly, “Lies. All lies.”

Hyomin looked like Yoongi’s undoing in that moment as she flipped out her phone and turned it around so Seokjin could see. The picture displayed on it was a little blurry, but not so much so that Seokjin couldn’t make out Yoongi’s form disappearing through the front door of his house. And by the lighting around him, it was very late at night, or far too early in the morning.

“I will smother her to death in her sleep,” Yoongi vowed.

“I know even more!” Hyomin declared, picking up Yoongi’s pillow and tossing it back at him.

“Okay, okay,” Seokjin told her, going to the door and pulling it halfway closed. He gave her a nudge back from the doorway and said, “Thank you for trying your best to look after your brother, but I do think he might actually commit murder if you don’t stop egging him on. So cut him a break, okay? He got hurt, he’s probably upset he’s not at his regular 100%, and he needs you to be on his side right now.”

It took just a half second for his words to sink in, and then her chin was wobbling as she asked at a whisper, “But he’s gonna be okay, right?”

“He’s going to be fine,” Seokjin promised her at an equally quiet tone. “I promise. But just in case, I’m here to check up on him. So let me do it, okay? Let your brother have some privacy, too.”

“Okay, Doctor Jin.” She took an even bigger step back, hugging her phone tightly to her chest.

Seokjin couldn’t stand the sad look on her face, so he whispered at her, “Has he been going out every night?”

The corner of her mouth pulled up. “The last two. I’ve got pictures from both nights.”

“I’ll see those pictures later,” he told her, and then when there was a bigger smile on her face, he felt good enough to shut the door.

When Seokjin went back to Yoongi on the bed, the male had a wince of pain on his face.

That told Seokjin everything he wanted to know about the medication he’d prescribed Yoongi. All the same, he asked, “Have you been taking the pills you’re supposed to?”

To his credit, Yoongi didn’t lie. He only gestured to the full bottle of pills sitting on the edge of his desk, partially obscured by books and other items.

“Why not?” Seokjin asked.

Yoongi told him “Because those pills are too strong. When I take them, it’s hard for me to think straight. It’s hard for me to walk straight sometimes.”

“And you want to be able to walk out that front door, right?”

Yoongi pinned him with a glare. “Just because I got hurt, doesn’t mean business gets put on hold. I need to be out there. Bangtan needs me, and I’m going to do what needs to be done.”

Seokjin pointed out, “You had major surgery a week ago. I opened you up and was scared that you were going to die on my operating table. And no matter what kind of brave face you’re trying to put on now, I know you’re in pain. If you’re not taking those pills, you’re in a lot of pain.”

“I’m taking Tylenol,” Yoongi countered.

Seokjin sighed. “You should be taking the medication I prescribed for you. If you don’t want to, that’s your choice. But at least let me check the wound now, okay? You’ve been on your feet. You’ve been moving around a lot more than you should be. So without seeing the wound yet, I’m predicting it’s going to be inflamed, agitated, and maybe even showing signs of infection.”

Yoongi plucked at his shirt, indicating he needed help getting it off, and offered, “You know I’m not going to sit around, especially with the message I got loud and clear from this wound.”

“I knew that,” Seokjin agreed, lifting Yoongi’s shirt over his head. “But I thought you were smarter than just ignoring all my medical advice and the medication I prescribed you. Because if you do get an infection, or you make your injury worse because of what you’re choosing to do, you’re going to be out for a long longer.”

“And you don’t seem to understand that every single day I’m not out there helping, is a day that we’re inching closer to whatever Infinite has planned.”

Seokjin ignored him for a second, getting his first look at the wound in several days as he peeled back the bandage. It was red, like he’d expected, redder than it should have been, which corroborated the story that Yoongi had been on his feet far too much. And it was a touch warmer than Seokjin would have liked. But it wasn’t blasting heal like an infected wound would have been, and there wasn’t any sign that it wasn’t going to heal properly.

Seokjin inspected the stitches as he said, “We both know that there’s no predicting what Infinite plans to do from here on out. Sure, we know Myungsoo is leading the charge to take back power and territory, but not one person can offer a method as to how. You’re no closer to knowing today, than you were yesterday, or you probably will be tomorrow. Yes, Bangtan needs you out there, but the situation is holding right now. Nothing is happening right now.”

Yoongi grunted in pain as Seokjin’s fingers probed the wound. “Just because you don’t see anything happening, doesn’t mean that’s the case.”

“Fair enough,” Seokjin agreed. “But if something big is coming, then when it gets here, you need to be at your best. When it arrives, you need to be able to fight. I have zero fighting skills. I could probably lose a fight with my laundry. But even I could take you right now. And all it would take is a pound or so of pressure to your side right now to put you down. Who will you be protecting when that happens?”

In a sign of defeat, Yoongi leaned further back against his headboard and let out a long breath.

“You are so lucky,” Seokjin told him bluntly. “You could have died from this. If the knife had nicked an artery, or hit a vital organ, you could have bled out on my operating table. Do you get that? Your sister would have never known how close she was while you were dying, if this had gone any different.”

Yoongi’s fingers gripped Seokjin’s wrist hard at his side as he said, with thankfulness, “You saved my life. I’m not ungrateful, Jin. Understand that.”

“Then don’t treat your luck like it’s something that comes around all the time.” Seokjin sat back and tucked his hands into his lap. “And respect what your body needs to heal. I’m not asking you to forego everything to do with Bangtan while you heal. That would never happen. But I am telling you to take it easy. Can you do that for me? Because I need you out there watching my brother’s back, and Namjoon’s. But you’re more liable to get them killed, than save them, if you’re running yourself thin with this injury.”

In almost a scathing way, Yoongi said, “Okay, enough with the pep talk. I get your message. I get it.”

“Then start acting like it.” Seokjin got up from the chair and retrieved the bottle of pills from the desk. He set them down next to Yoongi and said, “Take the Tylenol during the day if you want. But take these at night, when you’re trying to rest. Can you do that for me at least?”

“Fine,” Yoongi agreed.

“And stop being a jerk,” Seokjin added, but with a smile. “You’re being that way because you’re in pain. I can tell. Don’t be mean to your sister. She’s your sister.”

“Ha,” Yoongi replied. “Don’t pretend like you don’t have a younger sibling that drives you up the wall.”

“I do,” Seokjin laughed. “And I think I’ve even threatened to smother Jungkook to death in his sleep a couple of times. I get it. But this is the first time she’s really seen you hurt as a result of what you’re doing with Bangtan. This is the first time she’s probably realizing your mortality. And we talk about how she’s not a kid anymore, but she’s not grown up. She’s still young, you’re her big brother, and she’s scared.”

Yoongi eyed him for a minute, then said, “Yeah, I get it.”

“Get what I’m saying?”

Yoongi shook his head. “No, I mean I get why Jungkook is so irritated with you all the time when you lecture him. You really know how to punch a guy in the gut with words, Jin. You’re such a dad.”

Seokjin tossed his shirt back at him and ordered, “Put your shirt on. I want to see you struggle for a second.”

Yoongi chuckled as he followed orders.

“If anything,” Yoongi said when he’d gotten his shirt on, with Seokjin eventually taking pity on him and helping him, “you should be a little glad this is playing out with Infinite. It’s incredibly dangerous what’s happening right now, but it’s actually a little in Bangtan’s benefit, too.”

Seokjin’s jaw fell open a little. “How do you figure that?”

“Remember when I told you Suho was driving Rap Mon crazy,” Yoongi reminded.

Seokjin nodded.

Tipping his head, Yoongi said, “This is going to unite Bangtan and Exo again. We’ve been drifting a little more every day. That was always expected, you know. Gangs … they don’t get along well for a reason. Everyone is always a little too selfish and isolationist. Gangs are dangerous business because loyalty and honor are always in short supply, even when we’re talking about the gangs that try to do good. So the two of us have been drifting.”

Seokjin guessed, “Because Namjoon wants to hold onto what Bangtan has and settle down with the idea of peace, and Suho wants to expand.”

“Exactly.” Yoongi’s eyebrows rose. “Until now, Rap Mon has been placating Suho, for lack of a better word. He’s been doing his best to keep him content with what we’ve got right now, and pressuring him not to rock the boat. But eventually, and sooner than you think, Exo was going to be a problem. That would have meant at best, we’d have serious tension with Exo. And at worst?”

Seokjin knew what the worst was.

Yoongi didn’t elaborate, thankfully. He just said, “Now Bangtan and Exo have something to team up over, again. They have something to unite them. Now Suho isn’t worried about expanding, and Bangtan isn’t worried about holding them back from that for the sake of the alliance. Now it’s just about a common enemy, and it’ll be some time before Suho starts thinking about expansion again.”

Seokjin sagged a little. He was happy to know what Namjoon wouldn’t be worrying about Suho’s actions for some time. But he really wished it was because of better circumstances.

Namjoon had confided to Seokjin that he’d always expected, even from the start, that the alliance between Bangtan and Exo wasn’t something that could last. But they were all better off when it was in play, and Seokjin couldn’t help being a little thankful that was currently the case now.

“I trust Namjoon with this matter,” Seokjin finally settled on saying. “On the issue with Suho’s Exo, and Infinite alike, I trust him. And I feel good about trusting him because he has you standing next to him. When you’re not busy disobeying your doctor’s orders, you’re the person Namjoon needs to bounce ideas off, and stand with him, and talk sense into him when he’s considering something stupid.”

“Flattery,” Yoongi said, almost in an abashed way.

“Truth,” Seokjin countered. “Namjoon is an amazing person, but part of the reason he’s the leader he is, is because of you. You two are a team, and no matter what happens, as long as you stay a team, I feel like we can get through this.”

“I don’t know if he needs me,” Yoongi said in a way that sounded honest. “But I’m going to stand by him all the same.”

Seokjin genuinely felt better hearing that, even if he’d already known it.

“Now,” Yoongi said, “tell me honestly. “If I cut back on how long I’m on my feet, and the midnight excursions that apparently my little sister feels the need to log and report on, how long before I can get your seal of approval to get back to my normal routine?”

Seokjin considered the question or a moment, then said, “If you rest like you’re supposed to for the next week, and everything looks okay at your next checkup, I don’t see why you can’t be on your feet and moving around after that. You should be doing some physical therapy for the muscle that was shredded, but I’m going to take a guess you’re not willing to block off significant time for that.”

“Nope,” Yoongi said certainly.

“A week,” Seokjin settled on. “Follow what I say for another week, and I’ll stop hounding you about the wound and your mobility.”

Yoongi grunted out, “Fine. Deal. And yes, I know not just Hyomin, but also your brother has been telling you what I’m up to every night. I’m not stupid, and he’s not as slick as he thinks he is.”

“He’s my brother,” Seokjin chuckled out. “I bet you he always thinks he’s getting away with things no one thinks he is.”

He spent another half hour in Yoongi’s company enjoying it. Yoongi could be stiff at times, and hard to approach, but underneath it all, he was fascinating, and layered, and endlessly interesting. Seokjin didn’t mind sitting up in his room, talking with him until Yoongi started to show signs of exhaustion.

“You’d better stick to our deal,” Seokjin said on his way out the door. “I’ll have you know my best nurse is watching you.”

Yoongi asked, “Oh, Taehyung is here?”

“That’s not an insult to him anymore,” Seokjin pointed out. Then he offered Yoongi a parting wave, and went off to say his goodbyes to Hyomin.

When he got home later that night, he was particularly stunned to smell something delicious in the air. “Namjoon?” he couldn’t help calling out. He’d seen the man’s car parked out front, and all the lights had been on, but that didn’t explain the smell.

“In the kitchen!” Namjoon called out.

Seokjin trailed through the living room to the get to the kitchen, and when he came to a standstill at the threshold between the two rooms, it was over the sight of Namjoon wearing an apron, stirring something in a pot. He had ingredients laid out, another pot simmering, and it all smelled so, so good.

“Are you … cooking?” Seokjin asked.

Namjoon said, “The truth is, I know how to make exactly three kinds of dishes. Granny realized pretty early on that cooking is not one of my best talents, so she had me focus on a couple of important dishes, and perfect them. So that’s what I’m doing now. I’m making you one of the three dishes I know I can make well.”

“And why is that?” Seokjin asked, a little suspicious. But suspicion aside, he loved the sight of Namjoon in an apron, dedicating time and energy to making him a meal. Seokjin liked cooking because he liked taking care of others, and it was therapeutic for him in a way. Namjoon had never expressed that feeling before, but he was still there, in the kitchen, cooking.

With a wince, Namjoon offered, “Remember those dinner plans we had tomorrow?”

Seokjin was a little disappointed, but not that surprised. With Infinite on the rise, even if they hadn’t made any moves yet, Namjoon was bound to be even more busy. “Canceled?”

“Postponed.” Namjoon waved Seokjin over, and when he was close enough, Namjoon was wrapping him up in a lovely hug, smelling like spices. “And since I can’t make it tomorrow, I thought I’d cook for you tonight.”

Seokjin pressed a kiss to the side of Namjoon’s jaw. “This is a romantic gesture, Namjoon. But are you sure you’re not going to give us food poisoning?”

Seokjin gave a yelp of surprise, but a wonderful one, when Namjoon caught him by the waist and twisted him around, kissing him deeply and with a slight dip.

“Your food is going to burn!” Seokjin protested, laughing into another kiss.

“Better get it then,” Namjoon said, making no move to do so, however. He added, “Wouldn’t want to poison us.”

Seokjin gripped his hands behind Namjoon’s neck tightly and said kindly, “Your grandmother was a magnificent cook, so you know I’m only teasing. If she helped you master a couple of dishes, I’d be glad to have them.”

“Great,” Namjoon said, oozing relief.

Seokjin managed to get himself fully back on his feet, no matter how much he would have loved to stay wrapped up in Namjoon’s arms, and asked, “So what are we having?”

Namjoon turned back to the pot he’d been stirring, and said, “Doenjang jjigae. I know, it’s probably not going to be anywhere near as good as you can make it, but I’m confident this is going to taste good at least. It passed Granny’s inspection more than a couple of times.”

Peering around Namjoon to the simmering pot, Seokjin spied the soybean in it and the right color to the broth. “It looks good,” he encouraged, squeezing Namjoon’s hand supportively. “I bet it tastes great, too. Give yourself some credit.”

Namjoon rocked back on his feet a little proudly. “Thanks. Want to set the table? Food’s almost done.”

Seokjin was more than happy to pitch in. Namjoon had done all the hard work, after all, and the mood in their apartment was reminiscent of the early stages of their relationship. Without having to fuss or worry about anything related to the mounting stress in their individual lives, there was an atmosphere of ease and comfort, and Seokjin wanted nothing more than to bottle the feeling.

They were eating less than twenty minutes later, and after only a few spoonfulls of the stew, he couldn’t help himself heaping praise on Namjoon. “This is amazing,” he said. “Honestly.”

Namjoon leaned in for an easy, slow kiss, and confessed, “Granny always said that if I was going to ever convince someone to settle down with me, I was gonna need something to offset all the … quirks I have.”

“She would,” Seokjin laughed.

“So this is my bait.” Namjoon wiggled his eyebrows at Seokjin. “Are you hooked?”

Maybe in an embarrassing way, Seokjin told him with a dreamy tint to his voice, “I was hooked from the start.”

“That’s my line,” Namjoon insisted, and then the rough pads of Namjoon’s fingers were tipping Seokjin’s jaw up just slightly so their more innocent kisses from before could be overshadowed by the more passionate ones that came next.

It was hard to concentrate on the food, no matter how good it was, when Namjoon kissed him that way.

Somehow, however, they managed to sneak in enough for Seokjin’s stomach to fill up. But then the dishes were completely discarded as Seokjin and Namjoon stumbled their way to their bedroom.

“I’m sorry I have to cancel tomorrow,” Namjoon whispered to him in the quiet of their bedroom almost a full hour later. Seokjin was nearly nodding off to sleep by then, but Namjoon’s words were enough to catch him into alertness.

“What?” Seokjin frowned at Namjoon. “Things come up all the time, and I cancel on you sometimes, too. It’s no big deal. I’d say you made it up to me.”

He felt Namjoon’s face press into his shoulder, lips on his skin as the man said, “You deserve better. You deserve more.”

“I deserve what I want,” Seokjin countered. “And I have what I want. So don’t try and tell me any different.” He gave a yawn, but rolled more firmly into Namjoon. It was maybe a little too warm, with their combined body heat, to do it, but Namjoon’s words were worrisome. “What’s with you? What’s wrong?”

Namjoon’s hand pressed flat against Seokjin’s hip and he mumbled out, “I just mean … I don’t know what I mean.”

“Oh no you don’t.” No matter how sleepy he’d been just a few seconds earlier, Seokjin was awake and alert now. He forced himself to sit up, dislodging Namjoon, and pressed, “What made you say something like that? What’s going on?”

Flopping fully onto his back, Namjoon put his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. The light in the room made his skin glow a warm tint, but he looked the most worried Seokjin had seen him in a long time.

“Do you ever wonder what you’d be doing if I hadn’t dragged you into all this?” Namjoon asked him.

Unamused, Seokjin said, “The same thing I’m doing now.”

“Jin,” Namjoon breathed out. “I’m about to drag you back into something horrible, and all day today, while I was meeting with Suho, and talking to Hoseok, and repositioning my men, all I could think about was you.”

“I’m flattered,” Seokjin said in a way that clearly indicated he was not, “but Namjoon, we’ve been over this before.”

“I almost got you killed once,” Namjoon said, voice going thin. “And today … today I was thinking about how easy it would be for you to be in a bad situation again in the coming months. I was thinking about what an easy target you’re going to be, and that it’s all my fault.”

Seokjin said firmly, “You are not going to guilt trip yourself about this again, Namjoon. You are not.”

“But I am,” Namjoon insisted. “Suho brought you up today, and what we need to do to keep you safe from Myungsoo when he starts getting aggressive in his actions, and I had this horrific thought of you …”

Dying? That was probably the word.

Seokjin asked, “So you cooked me a pity dinner? To say sorry for thinking something morbid?”

“No.” Namjoon looked sharply to him. “I cooked for you because I am sorry about canceling tomorrow, and because I love you, and you always cook for me so I wanted to return the favor. That’s why.”

“I love you, too,” Seokjin, and he let himself settle back down against Namjoon. “But you really need to stop thinking such terrible things and blaming yourself for things that are either not your fault, or not going to happen.”

Namjoon’s arm came around him like it usually did, and he told Seokjin, “One mistake. That’s all it would take. One mistake and I could lose you to someone who would do anything to make that happen.”

Seokjin said, “Then it’s a good thing I have a family like Bangtan watching my back.”

The tenseness of Namjoon’s body indicated he didn’t like that answer.

“I could get hit by a bus tomorrow,” Seokjin pointed out. “Or my heart could give out, or a million other things could happen. You know that. So if I’m living with the fragility of life hanging over me, especially with my heart, I’m going to do what I want with who I want, Namjoon.”

“I think,” Namjoon pointed out, “you’d have a statistically better chance of seeing seventy without me around.”

“But I wouldn’t want to see seventy,” Seokjin told him, “if you weren’t by my side. Namjoon, I’m serious here. It’s a really heavy thing I’m starting to come to terms with—the idea that this tenseness and anxiety will be in my life for the rest of my years. But I can learn to accept that if it means I have you. I’m not just in love with you, I think you’re the one I was always meant for. And I’ll take anything that comes with that, if I have you.”

Namjoon let out a shuddering breath. “I feel so selfish all the time, wanting you near me, knowing what that means.”

“You are allowed to be selfish once in a while,” Seokjin pointed out. He leaned over Namjoon and turned off the light on the bedside table. And in the darkness, he added, “You never seem to remember that you’re human like the rest of us, Namjoon.”

Seokjin was settling back down against Namjoon when the man asked him, “I don’t suppose you’d like to go visit another country sometime soon, would you? Canada is beautiful, you said you always wanted to see France, and I know you have friends who live in Singapore.”

Seokjin grinned into the pillow beneath him. “No way. Stop daydreaming.”

“It was worth a shot.”

Under the blankets Namjoon was tugging up over them, Seokjin found his hand in the dark and asked, “Are you okay? I know you have a lot on your shoulders right now. You can always lean on me, Namjoon. Always.”

“I’m fine,” Namjoon said a little too quickly.

They were taking a vacation, Seokjin decided. They weren’t going right away, of course, but they were going eventually. They always found an excuse not to go anywhere, but Seokjin could see the fractures of stress in Namjoon now, and they worried him so much. Namjoon always took too much onto his plate, because he had a good heart, and it was threatening to overload him now.

Yoongi could handle things for a while, no doubt, if they went away for a week or so.

Seokjin was going to tell Namjoon they were going on vacation as soon as the whole matter with Infinite was take care of. And no matter the kinds of excuses Namjoon tried to give, or the things that came up in their lives, they were going.

“You’re fine,” Seokjin allowed, “but are you happy?”

Unexpectedly, Namjoon returned, “Are you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Namjoon said, “the last time we had a real heart to heart you admitted that maybe you’re feeling a little …bored in your job right now. You said surgery made you feel alive, but you weren’t getting that feeling very often.”

Seokjin winced a little as he admitted, “I got it when I saved Yoongi’s life.”

“So what does that tell you?” Namjoon asked him.

Even in the dimness of the room, Seokjin shook his head and didn’t answer. He wasn’t going to suddenly abandon his clinic to take up some position in a trauma room, and neither was he going to force unnecessary surgeries on his patients. So the whole topic seemed unnecessary.

“Don’t try and deflect to me,” Seokjin cut back. “We’re talking about you being happy.”

Their hands were still joined under the blankets when Namjoon squeezed hard and said, “I’m happy when I have you with me. I’m happy with you say my name, and smile at me, and tell me you love me.”

“You sound like a cheesy romance movie,” Seokjin laughed out.

“I’m a simple man,” Namjoon laughed back. “And I’m not a liar.”

“Is that why you always have the goofy look on your face when I see you?”

Namjoon snuck a kiss back to him, but because of the darkness, it landed closer to Seokjin’s ear, than his mouth. “Must be.”

Just as exhaustion was starting to creep its way back over Seokjin, he told Namjoon, “I liked tonight. It was nice.”

“Me too,” Namjoon told him.

A sliver of moonlight was shining through the blinds against the window, and it was the last thing Seokjin saw before he closed his eyes. But he did tell Namjoon, “You said you could make three dishes really well. Are you going to make the other two of them anytime soon?”

This time, Namjoon’s kiss landed quarterly at the top of his head, where Namjoon was fairly infamous for preferring when he didn’t want their kissing to get heavy.

“You name the time,” Namjoon mumbled sleepily.

For a split second, Seokjin wished they had all the time in the world.

But realistically, he was prepared to settle for some time in the near future, if only so he could work on easing the tension in Namjoon’s body, and forgetting his own worries for an hour or two.

“We’re going to be fine,” Seokjin got out almost wistfully, slipping away into sleep.

And faintly, before he did, he heard Namjoon say, “I really hope so.”


	19. Chapter Nineteen

The very next day, Seokjin drove Taehyung and Hoseok to the train station. Originally their plan seemed to include taking a cab to the train station that would get their anniversary started. But Seokjin hardly thought that was romantic at all, or even just personal. And he had an extra hour in the morning to spend as he wanted. So he volunteered himself for the task of driving them, and then was pleasantly surprised when Jungkook offered to tag along.

“I still don’t know where we’re going,” Taehyung said, practically vibrating in the backseat as Seokjin parked the car at the station. “Tell me. Hobi, tellllllll meeeeee.”

“Noooooo way,” Hoseok returned with a toothy smile.

Seokjin set the emergency brake and glanced back at them, announcing, “We’re here.”

The two of them had a suspiciously large number of bags between them, but Hoseok was strangely protective over one of the giant bags, which meant it probably had a lot of items for whatever kind of romantic surprises Hoseok wanted to spring on Taehyung. And Taehyung was notorious when it came to not being able to decide what to pack or bring when he went anywhere, so suddenly the bag count was making a little more sense.

“Don’t look at me,” Jungkook said when Taehyung gave him a desperate look. “I want to live, and if I tell you ahead of time, my brother is going to kill me.”

“I will,” Seokjin insisted, pushing one of Hoseok’s rolling suitcases towards the entrance to the station.

Hoseok had already bought their tickets in advance, so it was just a matter of waiting around for the train to arrive. And when it did, twenty minutes later, it was more spectacular than Seokjin remembered. Though he hadn’t seen a train in a long time, and it had been even longer since he’d been on one. But even the light rail, impressively advanced trains that snaked through South Korea, which lacked the heaviness of the more classic trains he’d grown up with, evoked a feeling of nostalgia.

Because little boys never grew out of thinking trains were cool.

When Seokjin looked to Taehyung, he saw the man staring at the arrivals board for the train. But even with the train number and route listed, it was impossible for Taehyung to know which stop was his.

And Hoseok was clearly loving the idea of Taehyung being puzzled.

With Taehyung distracted, Seokjin took the opportunity to press a key hooked on a chain with a small token on the end into Hoseok’s hand.

“What’s this?” he asked, looking down at it.

“The key to the house,” Seokjin said pointedly. He flipped the keychain over so Hoseok could see the series of numbers that were written on the back of it. “That’s the alarm code you’ll need to get in and out.”

Hoseok’s fingers curled closed around the keyring. “Thank you,” he said with unabashed gratitude.

“I got the key in a couple days ago,” Seokjin explained. His uncle had sent the key in a bigger package that Seokjin hadn’t really been expecting. His uncle had mentioned that he had a couple of pictures of Seokjin and Jungkook’s father from when he was younger, and he had the pictures from their parents wedding that had gone missing after their mother’s death, but Seokjin hadn’t expected to get everything he did. In the box that had arrived were more than just pictures, and also a lot of small tokens that used to belong to his father, and mementos from his childhood, and things that Seokjin could hang onto now for when he had children to pass down.

Hoseok looked very serious as he said, “We’ll take good care of the place, Jin. I swear. We’ll leave it just as clean and tidy as we’re bound of find it.”

Seokjin waved him off easily. “Don’t worry about it. Really. My uncle had a house keeper that goes through the place once a month to dust and take care of any maintenance work that needs to be done. My uncle specifically said to tell you to enjoy the place and that … well …” Seokjin winced.

“Well what?” Hoseok asked with a frown. “Does he have some rules he wants us to follow? Something we should do while we’re there?”

“No.” Seokjin shook his head. “My uncle said something about having a couple of anniversary presents waiting for you there?” Seokjin palmed at his face. “My uncle is becoming a dirty old man, the older he gets, and I’m sorry in advance for whatever that means, Hoseok. He asked me if you were good friends of mine, and when I said you were more like family, he insisted on arranging for something to be waiting for you when you get there.”

Hoseok didn’t seem disturbed, only unsure. “Okay. Tell him … thanks?”

“Wait to say that,” Seokjin insisted. “My uncle is very much, by all appearances, a very work oriented—almost workaholic—person who is traditional and probably a little uptight in his day to day actions. But that’s just his image for people who don’t know him. He really can just be a dirty old man sometimes.”

Hoseok cracked a smile. “I’ll be sure to let you know what’s there when we open the door. And truly, thank you, Jin, for vouching for us and getting us this opportunity. We would have had a good anniversary no matter what, but this is going to make it amazing.”

“They’re boarding!” Taehyung called out to Hoseok.

“Have an amazing time,” Seokjin urged, and then he and Jungkook were waving goodbye to the two of them as they climbed up into the train.

Jungkook turned to Seokjin and said, “I want to go to Jeju.”

“You have been to Jeju,” Seokjin pointed out. “We have the pictures to prove it.”

Seokjin actually had a framed picture of himself, Jungkook, and their father standing on a beach in Jeju near where Taehyung and Hoseok were headed to. Jungkook had been just a little kid, and Seokjin hadn’t been much older, but it was one of the few great memories Seokjin had with his father after his mother’s death.

Seokjin didn’t really remember the details of the trip, but he knew it had come about almost six months after he’d lost his mother and sister, and it had happened after a screaming match between his mother’s sister, his favorite Aunt, and his father. Whatever she’d said to him had compelled him to take them on the trip down South, and for a moment, Seokjin had thought his father would recover from the loss he’d suffered.

The trip had been nice, but afterwards his father had thrown himself into his work, and Seokjin had learned to expect less.

“I was seven,” Jungkook pointed out. “I want to go back now, when I’m old enough to enjoy myself. I want to go with you and just relax.”

The two of them started the walk back to the car and Seokjin reminded, “You know, most little brothers wouldn’t want to go on vacation with their older brothers.”

Jungkook shrugged. “Other little brothers don’t have you as an older brother. Yeah, you can be a stick in the mud about some stuff, but you’re mostly really cool.  You’re cool to hang out with, you get all my jokes, and you always buy me the stuff I want.”

“So your true colors are exposed,” Seokjin said.

“I don’t mean that in a crappy way,” Jungkook hastened to add. “I just mean … you’re a really good hyung. You’re a good older brother. When you think I’m not eating right, you make me, and you buy me things that make me happy, and you pay special attention to me. You make me feel special.”

“Hey.” Seokjin bumped his elbow into Jungkook’s. “You are special.”

“I don’t know. You’re my brother. You have to say stuff like that. And no one else does, so the jury’s still out.”

“I promise you,” Seokjin told him, looping their arms together as the car came into sight, “you are special. And that’s a special thing.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“I mean it.” Seokjin unlocked the car and they got in. It was nearing ten in the morning, but it was June now, so that meant Seokjin felt a little justified in running the air conditioner even at such an early time in the day. Jungkook would never admit it, either, but he overheated easily. So Seokjin turned the air on and pressed, “A lot of people go through life being very mediocre. And that isn’t meant to be an insult. For most people, a happy medium or average, is all they’re suited for, and it suits them well. But for others?”

“Like you?” Jungkook snuck in.

“But for others like you Jungkook,” Seokjin emphasized his name, “there’s something special about them—in them. That’s you. You are so special, Jungkook, and you don’t even know it. But that’s probably a good thing. Your ego might explode if you truly knew how special you were.”

“Ha,” Jungkook told him. “You’d be there to pop my big head before it did any damage. You’re really good at that.”

Seokjin had a laugh himself, and then asked, “Wouldn’t you rather go on vacation with a pretty girl? Whatever happened to that girl you were interested in?” Jungkook hadn’t said much about the girl he’d casually mentioned for the first time months ago, but Seokjin knew she was a college student by day, and worked at a little boutique in the evening. Seokjin didn’t even have a name for the girl, but she must have been something, to make Jungkook so close lipped on the subject of her.

“Her?” Jungkook leaned on the window of the car. “She went and got herself a rich, handsome boyfriend. And I got friend-zoned.”

“Friend-zoned,” Seokjin said dramatically. “How horrendous. There’s no recovering from that.”

“You could try and be understanding. I’m still in mourning.”

Seokjin didn’t really think that was true. So he said, “You’re still incredibly young, Jungkook. People are going to come and go from your life easily from here on out. So this girl decided she didn’t want to date you. It’s not the end of the world. When you’re not being my annoying little brother, you’re funny and charming and charismatic. You’re also far more attractive than I like to let you believe. So trust me when I say one failed non-relationship does not define what your future will be like.”

Jungkook supposed, “I guess you can’t really judge who you’ll date in the future, based on anything in the past. I mean, you went from a podiatrist to a gang leader.”

“I will push you from this car while it’s moving,” Seokjin threatened half-heartedly.

“You could,” Jungkook said, just a touch too coyly for Seokjin to feel comfortable, “but then you wouldn’t get to hear the juicy gossip I have on Jimin.”

“On Jimin?” Seokjin scoffed.

“And the fact that,” Jungkook paused for dramatic effect, “I’m absolutely, one hundred percent certain, he is either dating someone, or just interested in someone—but a lot interested!”

Seokjin nearly slammed on the brakes. “Lies,” he shot at Jungkook.

He’d seen Jimin at the clinic event, though. He thought back to that day. From the window, he’d seen Jimin leaning into the personal space of someone else, a man, and his body language had been impossible to miss. It was the kind of lean that one person did when they were interested in another, and there was nothing debatable about it.

Roughly, Seokjin demanded, “Tell me everything you know.”

“Now who doesn’t want to throw me out of the car,” Jungkook said, wigging his eyebrows.

Seokjin ignored the gesture. “Jimin’s interested in someone? Romantically?”

It had seemed like such a long shot for a while that Jimin’s feelings for him might fade. It had seemed like a foolish thing to believe in. But there’d always been a little part of Seokjin clinging to the possibility, reminding himself that eventually, Jimin would move on. Eventually he was going to run into someone who wowed him, or evoked new feelings in him, or just made him think twice about giving someone else a new chance.

Was this that moment? It was sooner than Seokjin had expected, though Jimin had been pretty frank about how he accepted the new role their relationship was developing into.

Jungkook twisted towards him, straining his seat belt and said, “So look, you’re more regular than a clock. You do the same stuff all the time, in a really predictable way. But Jimin’s like that too, to a pretty big degree. When he isn’t getting called out on Bangtan business, he does the same stuff at home, eats at the same places, talks to the same people, and never deviates.”

“Okay,” Seokjin prompted. Where was Jungkook going with his words?

“Get this,” Jungkook said, a little too excited to share his gossip, “About a week ago Jimin started … putting some extra stock into his appearance.”

Seokjin frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Like doing his hair up nice,” Jungkook said with a shrug. “Putting product in it. And he used to be the kind of guy who’d smell a shirt after picking it up from the ground, and then just turn it inside out if it wasn’t exactly clean. Since then he’s been wearing clean clothes every day, and he even smells nice now.”

Seokjin pointed out, “He could just be changing some of his habits.”

But Seokjin kept thinking back to the sight Jimin had made with that other man, leaning into his personal space.

“Do you have any other evidence to support this claim?” Seokjin wanted to know. He really hoped so.

“He went out twice last week,” Jungkook said. “He went out after seven, didn’t come back for several hours, and it wasn’t on Bangtan business.”

Seokjin asked, “Was he just shopping or something?”

“He didn’t come back with anything,” Jungkook told him. “And he looked extra nice each time he went out. I tried asking him the second time it happened, about where he was going, and he told me to mind my own business—he was really defensive, actually.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s interested in someone, or dating, or anything.”

Seokjin drove towards Jungkook’s school in order to drop him off. Testing was coming up for his brother, midterms, and Jungkook could probably use the extra time to sneak a little work in.

Slowly, Jungkook agreed, “I guess, but what about the receipts I found in Jimin’s pocket?”

“What receipts?”

Jungkook ticked off his finger, “Jimin’s been meeting with someone that he bought a coffee for, and then lunch for, and then on a separate occasion, purchased a movie ticket for—and a snack afterwards. Come on, Jin. Put it together.”

“What were you doing with Jimin’s receipts?” Seokjin asked.

Jungkook’s jaw fell loose. “I present you with all this evidence that Jimin might actually be dating someone, and you want to know why I saw some receipts?” At Seokjin’s expression, Jungkook admitted, “I do do laundry, you know. And you’re the one who taught me about turning out pockets just before putting anything in the wash.”

Seokjin was a little impressed. “You do laundry? Jimin’s laundry?”

“We split the chores,” Jungkook defended. “He doesn’t like doing laundry, and I don’t like dusting or cleaning, so we divided it up. But now that he’s apparently sweet on someone, there’s a whole lot more laundry for me, and it’s only been a week.”

Seokjin rolled Jungkook’s words around in his mind. Jimin was sweet on someone?

The man from the clinic event?

“You really think Jimin might be dating someone?” Seokjin asked. Jimin was terrible private as a person, and it seemed a bit of a stretch that after having his heart broken by Seokjin, that he’d be willing to give someone else a chance so quickly.

Jungkook debated, “I guess I could be completely off base, but I’m telling you, his behavior is way off the charts, and I’ve lived with him for a year.  I think he’s dating someone. I think he’s nervous as hell about it, too.”

Seokjin desperately wished Jungkook had more to say on the subject, but it sounded like his brother had exhausted his evidence.  So instead Seokjin asked, “You tried to approach Jimin about this?”

“I did.” Jungkook nodded. “I wasn’t trying to call him out or anything. I just wanted to know why he kept leaving the house late at night, and then once in the morning. And when I say he got defensive, I mean he got really defensive. He said his personal life was his business, and not to go poking around. He said …” Jungkook trailed off.

“What?” Seokjin asked. There was traffic up ahead so he made himself focus back on the road and not Jungkook’s face. “He said what?”

“It was weird,” Jungkook said honestly. “But he said not to go poking around, and more importantly, not to say anything to you.”

“About what?” Seokjin balked.

“About his non-acknowledged dating? I don’t know. That’s why it’s weird.”

It wasn’t weird, however, when context came into play. If Jungkook was right, and he still knew nothing about Jimin’s previous feelings for Seokjin, then it actually made sense that Jimin might want to keep a budding relationship away from Seokjin’s knowledge. Everything was probably frightfully fragile in Jimin’s heart. And the last thing Jimin needed was Seokjin knowing about him actually trying to move on with someone else, and dragging up all kinds of feelings, even if it was bound to be unintentional.

“You told me anyway,” Seokjin pointed out.

Jungkook scoffed and gave him a look like he was stupid. “I tell you everything.”

Seokjin grinned at him a little.

Jungkook settled back in his seat facing forward, and said, “I know he’s seeing someone. I know he’s dating. Jin, all the pieces are there. And last week, on Thursday, he started taking his extra helmet with him on his motorcycle.”

That surprised Seokjin. “He did?”

“He has people on his bike all the time,” Jungkook said easily “but they’re members of Bangtan, so they don’t care about wearing helmets.”

Seokjin had lectured Jimin dozens of times about wearing a helmet, and not taking chances with his life. When Jimin had had the minor accident a few weeks previous, he’d been wearing his helmet, and that had prevented him from any kind of major injury. But Seokjin did know that even if Jimin was getting better about wearing his helmet, he didn’t force a helmet on anyone else who hopped on the back of his bike.

Seokjin wore a helmet, whenever he rode with Jimin—which was always rare. And Seokjin knew Jimin didn’t want to die, so he made Jungkook wear one, too. But other than the two of them?

Seokjin eased out, “Jimin is putting someone on the back of his bike that he cares enough about to make them wear a helmet?”

In a pleased way, Jungkook said, “Bingo.”

The idea of it was almost revolutionary.

“But hey,’ Jungkook said nervously, “you’re not going to try and talk to Jimin about this, right? I mean, you’re not going to let him know that I told you?”

“I’m not,” Seokjin reassured right away. “I wouldn’t do that to you.” Moreover, he didn’t want to embarrass Jimin, or sabotage any kind of relationship that he might just be starting to open himself up to.

“Good,” Jungkook breathed out. “And this is a good thing, right? I’ve never seen Jimin so much as look twice at someone, so this has to be a good thing.”

Jungkook wasn’t completely lacking any kind of perceptiveness, but it was nice to see that Jimin’s unrequited feelings for Seokjin hadn’t been broadcasted to anyone within hearing distance. Taehyung definitely knew, but other than him, Seokjin thought it was a secret shared by just the three of them. Seokjin was even certain that Taehyung hadn’t told Hoseok, and it seemed like the two of them told each other everything.

“I think it is,” Seokjin told Jungkook. “But lay off him with this subject, okay? If he’s interested in someone, just let him be interested. If it works out, he’ll tell you eventually. You’re an important person to him, so he’ll want you to meet this other person if the relationship means something. And if it doesn’t work out, then you can spare Jimin some embarrassment by not prying into his personal business.”

“I guess,” Jungkook grumbled.

“Let Jimin go at his own speed,” Seokjin pressed. Jimin making any kind of move to emotionally invest in something or someone, was important. And even if Seokjin was from the outside looking in, he wanted to do his best to help cushion Jimin’s heart.

Holding up his hand solemnly, Jungkook promised, “I won’t badger him for information, or go looking through his things for clues. But you are going to start to notice some things.”

“What things?”

“He’s smiling a lot more now,” Jungkook told Seokjin. “It freaked me out at first, but he’s smiling at least a little more than he used to. And his phone is glued to his hand. He used to struggle with remembering where he left it. Now he’s on it whenever he has spare time, and I bet he’s texting one person specifically.”

Those were two things Seokjin reminded himself to look for the next time he was around Jimin.

It didn’t take too long for Seokjin to pull up along the curb in front of the building that housed Jungkook’s first class of the day. Traffic had eventually thinned out, and it looked like it was going to be an even better drive to the clinic afterwards.

“Off to school,” Jungkook said theatrically.  “Where I will toil for the next four hours.”

Before Jungkook could get out of the car, he caught his brother at the elbow and said gently, “We’ve been putting off going to see dad.” They’d meant to go some time ago to visit the family plot ages ago, but life had a way of distracting them, and now they were very much overdue.

In a lot of ways, Seokjin thought Jungkook was deliberately putting the event off. Jungkook had taken their father’s illness poorly, and his passing even worse. Seokjin had had Namjoon to lean on, at least, but Jungkook had closed himself off in a way. He’d put on a brave face and told everyone he was fine, but to the day, Seokjin wasn’t sure he’d let himself grieve properly.

And the last time they’d gone to visit, months ago, Jungkook had stood at a distance, hugging his arms around himself, quieter that Seokjin was used to him being.

“I’ve got class,” Jungkook said predictably, trying to rush off.

“Jungkook,” Seokjin said sharply. “Wait. We need to talk about this. We have to get our schedules to line up so we can go.”

“I have to work, and go to school, and you’re always busy and I mean, we should just wait until it’s a better time for the both of us,” Jungkook said at a rapid rate. “Dad would totally understand. You know it. He wouldn’t want me to put anything before school.”

This was a topic with a fight attached to it. Seokjin could sense it from a mile away. But this wasn’t the day for it. Seokjin didn’t want to upset Jungkook so close to his testing, or pick a fight with him when they really did have other things that needed to take priority. Eventually, Seokjin was going to sit Jungkook down, and make him talk about his feelings, and then drag him out to see their family plot. But today wasn’t that day.

In a way that felt like waving a white flag, he let go of Jungkook’s arm and said, “Okay. Go to class. Be smart. Don’t get into trouble.”

Jungkook’s demeaner changed in a second, and he grinned as he said, “You sound like you’re sending me off to kindergarten, not college.”

“Sometimes I don’t see a difference.” Seokjin nudged him. “Go on. You’re holding me up from getting to work. I have people to save.”

“Bunions to remove,” Jungkook teased.

“Stick to being smart, you’re not funny!” Seokjin called after him as Jungkook leapt from the car, shut the door, and hustled off to his class.

It was just a short drive to the clinic after that, and Seokjin was happy to tuck his stuff away in his office and get ready to start working.

“He’s going to be late.”

“Who is?” Seokjin asked, flipping through the chart for his first patient. He was a little startled to see that it was someone he was familiar with. Weeks ago, he’d had an appointment with the mother and the screaming baby.  He still remembered the tremble of the overwhelmed mother’s voice as she found herself giving up, and admitting despairing truths about not wanting her baby.

Seokjin couldn’t hear any screaming coming from the waiting room now, but he still had half an hour before the appointment. He was just startled to see the mother had requested a follow-up appointment so quickly. He’d wanted to see her for the postpartum she was obviously suffering from, but the notes on the appointment were marked clearly that it was an appointment for the baby, Yebin.

“Jin,” Jonghyun said.

Seokjin looked away from the chart. “You said someone is going to be late?”

Seokjin looked across the room to where the clock was mounted on the wall. It was a couple of minutes to ten.

“The new kid.”

“Samuel?” Seokjin asked Jonghyun, “He starts at ten today? We usually have him coming in a lot earlier than that, or a lot later.”

“We need him on this shift today,” Jonghyun said. “He knew since last week he was working at ten today. He’s going to be late.”

“Oh, stop making that face,” Seokjin said, poking Jonghyun in the side. Because for the most part, Samuel was a good employee. He tended to be a little mouthy, but he did good work, and he always finished what his tasks were for the day. And, relevantly enough, he was always on time. Whether he was coming in for the day, or coming back from his lunch break, Samuel was on time. The kid seemed almost obsessive about being on time.

With a quick glance back to the clock, Seokjin said, “He’s got time left.” And from the angle they were standing at they could just see the front doors.

Jonghyun pointed out, “Two minutes.”

With a frown, Seokjin asked, “Do you want him to be late? I thought your relationship was a lot better now. He did apologize to you for how he talked to you and treated you that first day. I know he did. I heard it, and he sounded genuine. Is there a problem I should know about?”

“No,” Jonghyun said, and he was looking to the door in an odd way. “You’re misconstruing the situation. I don’t want him to be late. I don’t want to have to be the one to have that conversation with him, if he is, and have to pass out punishment or whatever.”

Seokjin bit back a grin. “You softie.”

“I hate you,” Jonghyun grouched out.

Seokjin glanced back at the clock. Less than a minute.

But at nearly the same time Seokjin was settling into the truth that Samuel was absolutely going to be late, the big double doors to the clinic open, and the teen skidded in. He looked more than a little frazzled, with his hair sticking up messily and his clothes skewed, but he was on time, and he was back to the employee area before the clock hit exactly ten.

“Cutting it close,” Jonghyun said, eyeing him. “Are you okay?”

Samuel was a little red in the face as he dragged his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it down.

“I’m okay,” he said, hunched over a little.

Seokjin shook his head a little in disbelief and asked, “What happened this morning to make you so late? The unusual shift?”

Samuel straightened himself up a moment later and offered, “Yunho isn’t taking me to work anymore in the morning. I have to catch the bus now. But I got lost this morning. The bus routes are a lot more complicated here than they are in California. It took me forever before I realized I was going in the wrong direction.”

There was a clipped, lack of proficiency in Samuel’s Korean that wasn’t overly noticeable, but kind of adorable. It definitely pegged him as a foreigner, but not drastically so.

Jonghyun eased out, “You got on the wrong bus going the opposite direction?”

Samuel was straightening his clothes as he confirmed, “Of course I did. And then when I tried to catch the right bus from where I got off, there was a system delay, and I thought … oh man, I thought I was done for. Yunho said getting around Seoul was supposed to be a cake walk compared to getting around Los Angeles. That is not true.”

Jonghyun gave him a long look filled with curiosity and asked, “So how did you manage to get here, and on time.”

With a flirtatious kind of wink, but one that was more innocent than anything, Samuel gave a barely passable bow of respect and said, “I improvised.” Then he was off to officially clock in and probably check what tasks had been assigned to him for the day.

“That isn’t an answer!” Jonghyun called after him.

With a bounce in his step that reminded Seokjin of Jungkook, Samuel told them before he disappeared around a corner, “I just got really lucky this morning. You guys should try it. Get the wind on your face a little more.”

There was a beat of silence between them, before Jonghyun turned to him and said, “I take back everything I said earlier about not wanting him to be late, and not wanting to punish him. He hasn’t officially clocked in yet. I know his time card hasn’t been punched. He’s late, so he gets punished.”

Seokjin merely said, “I’m just really confused. What is he talking about?”

Jonghyun offered, “I don’t speak teenager, Jin. You know that.”

“You do speak medicine,” Seokjin said, deciding to drop the matter of Samuel completely. He was a good kid, and he was on time, as far as Seokjin was concerned. How he’d gotten to the clinic didn’t matter, just that he had and he was safe. “Explain to me why I’m seeing Lee Yebin again?”

Recognition lit on Jonghyun’s face. “The screaming baby?”

“Exactly.” Seokjin turned the chart around so Jonghyun could see it. “She’s perfectly fine. She’s very healthy, actually. I shouldn’t be seeing her again for some time. It’s the mother I’d like to be treating. But the appointment booked for … about twenty minutes from now, is for Yebin.”

Jonghyun offered, “Maybe something came up with baby. Babies are resilient, but they’re very fragile in other ways.”

Seokjin shook his head. “Yoona logged this appointment herself, and she indicates no direct reason for the visit, other than the mother’s request. We don’t turn people away when they refuse to tell us why they want an appointment, typically because there’s some kind of embarrassing reason behind it, but this is … odd.”

“You want me to take the appointment?” Jonghyun offered. “I’m just doing walk-ins for a few hours. I’ll trade you if you want.”

“You’d trade for a screaming baby?”

In a hilarious show of perfect timing, the mother must have just arrived at the clinic, because piercing screams echoed through the halls.

“For that?” Seokjin pressed.

“For you,” Jonghyun shot back. “I’d do it for you.”

“Thanks,” Seokjin told him appreciatively. “But I’ve got this.” He had a special fondness for Yebin, even if she was constantly threatening to blast out his eardrums. Funny enough, she reminded him of Jungkook in the way she dominated his attention and demanded his focus.

Twenty minutes later, he had mother and baby in his favorite examination room, number one.

And as expected, the baby was wailing as she twisted about in her mother’s arms. Likewise, the mother, Nakyoung, looked as if she was moments away from flinging the child to the ground, or bursting into tears, or something between the two.

“How are you?” Seokjin asked when he shut the door to the room behind him to give them privacy.

The mother leveled him with a venomous look.

The answer hung in the air for Seokjin awkwardly.

Settling on the stool in the room, Seokjin wheeled himself to where the mother and baby were seated on the edge of the examination bed. Yebin’s foot was kicking harshly at the protective paper covering on the bed, making a crunching sound for effect.

“How’s my girl?” Seokjin asked, running his fingers along Yebin’s spine. She’d dumped a lot of her baby fat very quickly, probably quicker than Seokjin would have liked, and he could just feel the ridges of her spine. “How’s Yebin?” he asked the mother.

The toddler swung round on him, catching his hand with surprising accuracy for someone her age, and began to gnaw on a finger. Seokjin felt a flash of teeth against his skin. It was nothing too painful, but it was something.

“She’s teething,” Seokjin said, looking up at Yebin’s mother.  And that did fall right in line with her age. At six months, he would have expected her to already have a couple of baby teeth coming in. “That’s probably got a lot to do with why she’s so vocal right now.”

“No,” the mother huffed out, “that’s just her. She just screams. We talked about this already. She just … she screams.”

Yebin was getting to work on chewing at his finger, and Seokjin let her do as she pleased. And it seemed to put her into a relatively good mood, because she’d pop his finger out of her mouth every couple of seconds to babble a word at him, before making a series of happy noises and chewing on his finger again.

“We did talk about this,” he reminded kindly. “There’s nothing wrong with Yebin. There are just a series of factors at play here. She’s just a fickle baby and now she’s teething. I promise you, there’s nothing wrong with Yebin.”

“Then why won’t she stop?” the woman demanded, angry now.

Seokjin saw the moment her grip went loose on the baby. He didn’t think it was intentional. He couldn’t find any evidence that it was. But Yebin slipped to the side, and Seokjin swept her up into his arms. She resisted for a moment, clearly unhappy with her change in position. But then she was switching her attention to the lapel of his coat, and mouthing at it.

She was definitely in discomfort from her teeth, and that hadn’t been the case the last time Seokjin had seen her.

It almost frightened him how fast the condition of children could change. Especially babies.

Seokjin swayed a little with her in his arms and asked Yebin’s mother, “Why did you schedule the appointment today for Yebin and not yourself?”

Still on the verge of going hostile, she snapped back, “Because there’s nothing wrong with me, and there is obviously something wrong with her. She’s broken. She’s wrong. She’s just … she’s not right.”

Seokjin asked carefully, “Did you look into the information I gave you last time about postpartum? Yebin is very old right now for you to be experiencing the symptoms you’re showing, but a delayed postpartum period is a very real thing, and it’s serious. Answer me honestly, are you experiencing a loss of energy? A lack of interest in thing you enjoyed before? Insomnia? A change in your appetite?”

“Of course I am,” she snapped out. “She won’t stop crying.”

On cue, Yebin leaned her head back and began wailing.

“I can’t stand it anymore!” She put her hands to her ears and clenched her eyes shut.

There was no bonding going on, Seokjin worried suddenly. There was clearly no bonding happening between mother and baby, and that could potentially lead to a whole host of other problems.

“Shhhhh,” Seokjin eased out, rubbing Yebin’s back, circling the small room with her as he tried to get her to calm down again. “You’re okay. You’re good. Just calm down.”

Maybe … maybe there was something wrong with her. His gut said no, and he’d checked Yebin over thoroughly many times since her birth. But what if he was missing something?

“I think we should do some tests,” Seokjin told the woman as Yebin sniffled and leaned her body wholly against his. She was warm as she clutched at him, and he could feel her sweaty forehead against his skin. “I want to run some allergy tests on her, and do some bloodwork. It’s possible she’s agitated about something we’re not seeing. We can get to the bottom of this.”

Still … he’d handled so many babies in his lifetime. He knew when a baby was distressed for a real reason. And everything in his medical knowledge told him this was a result of a lack of bonding between Yebin and her mother. Everything in him said this was the result of a disingenuous relationship, with the baby sensing the lack of want from the mother.

With red tinted eyes, the mother gave Seokjin an exhausted look and said, “I didn’t want her from the start.”

“Excuse me?”

 “My husband,” she replied, and he noticed she was playing with the wedding ring she still wore, “he wanted children. He wanted Yebin. I said no, let’s travel and live well. I said, I want to have a life with you, and love you, and concentrate on you. But he … he wanted children.”

Seokjin knew how that story ended. He knew that from her perspective, she’d given him the child he wanted, and then he’d died before Yebin had even been born. And now, at least from how she saw things, she was saddled with a baby she didn’t want—had never wanted, and a difficult one at that.

“Let’s focus on Yebin,” Seokjin said, happy to feel the baby sag more fully against him. She’d stopped crying completely now, and was only sniffling a little. He hoped she’d rest a little. “Let’s run some tests on her, and then we can focus on you.”

She ground out again, “There is nothing wrong with me.”

There was. There obviously was, but she couldn’t see that. She couldn’t see how close she was teetering to something very dangerous.

“I appreciate that you trusted me to deliver Yebin,” Seokjin told her, daring to stop his circling of the room and return to his seat. He braced Yebin with an arm as he edged close to the woman. “And I have done my very best to take care of the both of you from the very beginning. I care for all my patients, but I have a very close bond with those in your situation, who’s children I have delivered.”

She shuddered out, “I would know if something was wrong with me. I’m not the one screaming all day long.”

Placating her, Seokjin said, “I know you’re not screaming, and that’s very good. But I want you to consider my medical history, and how I have always acted in your best interest, and how invested I am in you and Yebin. I want you to consider that I’m worried about you. Not Yebin. You. And if I’m worried, can you at least humor me?”

Something fortifying set on her face.

“We have an OBGYN at the clinic now,” Seokjin started. “She is very good at what she does, and she has a wealth of knowledge about women’s health. I would consider it a personal favor if you’d just sit with her or a couple of minutes and talk to her while we run those tests on Yebin.”

Yebin’s fingers scratched at the open collar of Seokjin’s shirt, and he could feel the length of her nails that hadn’t been trimmed, but desperately needed to. And at that catalyst, he noticed the length of Yebin’s hair, too, and how underneath the very strong smell of baby, was something that eluded to fewer baths than should have been given.

Seokjin’s stomach clenched up at the idea of neglect being suggested in front of him.

Yebin’s mother got to her feet. “I ….”

“Just a few minutes,” Seokjin said evenly. “You’ll have to wait while we perform the tests on Yebin anyway. Why not do something with your time?” And he was now starting to think he needed a second opinion on the situation. He needed another doctor to either validate his fears, or ease them.

He could see her hands shaking, and she was clearly on the precipice of something.

Then she crumpled. Her shoulders caved inward, they began to shake, and she was crying.

Yebin started crying as well, and Seokjin hated these kinds of days. They didn’t come so frequently that he worried about them, but occasionally, the kind of days that sucked a part of him out, chewed it up and spat it out, occurred.

“Ma’am,” Seokjin tried, moving Yebin to his hip as he reached out to comfort her. “Nakyoung.”

“I hate her,” she said in a brutally honest way. “What kind of mother hates her own baby?”

Seokjin could feel Yebin’s tears soaking through his shirt. “You…”

She interrupted, “You’re so good with her. You’re just so good with her, and I’m so terrible. Why? It’s not fair. I don’t understand.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Seokjin told her, putting a hand on her shoulder and feeling the vibrations coming from her.

She cried for a moment more, before giving him another hard look. Something penetrative. Something definitive.

Seokjin felt small under her gaze.

“I need to … to go to the restroom. I want to wash my face. To catch my breath. To … to be away from her for a second.”

“Of course,” Seokjin agreed, rubbing at Yebin’s back again. “You know where it is? Down the hall and to the left?”

“I just need five minutes.” She fumbled for her purse then, but left Yebin’s baby bag at her feet. “If she won’t stop screaming but you’re tired of holding her, just put her in her carrier. Just put her down.”

Seokjin wasn’t going to just put her down, not when Yebin was overly distressed now. She wasn’t crying for attention. He could hear the difference now. She was crying for an entirely different reason.

“Go on,” Seokjin urged. “Take all the time you need.”

She slipped out of the room and Seokjin, his arms getting tired from Yebin’s weight, placed her up on the examination table.

“Come on, Yebin,” he cooed, brushing back her sweaty hair. She really was too pretty. Most babies went through an ugly phase, with heads far too big for their bodies and features growing rapidly. But Yebin had been pretty from the start, and her hazel eyes were her most spectacular and stunning feature. “How about we check and see how well you can hold yourself up.”

Yebin took a swing at Seokjin in protest of being put down, but she adapted quickly, and Seokjin watched her carefully. He wasn’t surprised to see her lean forward and brace herself up with her hands. That was fitting for her age. But then she leaned back, sitting up all on her own, and she delivered what was probably only described as a smug look.

“Oh, you clever girl,” Seokjin praised, kissing her forehead.

She babbled at him a little, shaking her fists in his direction, and Seokjin grinned. He adored her.

Minutes passed slowly enough, and Seokjin did his best to keep Yebin distracted and entertained. But it wasn’t long before she was curling onto her side, paper crunching under her, and her eyes were going heavy.

He couldn’t stand the sight of her falling asleep on her own, without the comfort of arms cradling her like babies always preferred at that age. It indicated to him that she was used to going to sleep on her own, in a lonely way, and without her mother.

Seokjin rocked her in his own arms, watching her drop off. And then when she was fully asleep, breathing quietly against his arm, he looked to the clock.

Yebin’s mother had been gone fifteen minutes

He gave her another five minutes, and then managed to get the door open with his knee, and stepped out into the busy hallway.

“Nice baby,” Moonbin called out as he passed by.

Seokjin asked him, “Have you seen a woman come by here? Crying?”

Moonbin shook his head, but at the same time Joy passed by and asked, “Want me to go check the ladies restroom for you?”

Seokjin nodded. He didn’t want to interrupt her if she was … breaking down in the privacy of the room. But he was about to become even more insistent that she speak with Irene. There were too many warning signs for him to ignore now.

Joy came back thirty seconds later with a confused expression on her face. “You sure she’s supposed to be the restroom? Because she’s not there.”

Seokjin frowned at her. “She went there twenty minutes ago. What do you mean she’s not in there?”

“I mean she’s not in there.” Joy shrugged. “There’s no one in there right now. I promise you.”

In her sleep, Yebin kicked out a little, twitching as she dreamed.

Seokjin looked from Joy to Moonbin and asked, “Then where’s Yebin’s mother?”

Wherever she was, Seokjin had the sudden realization that she was likely far away, and she probably wasn’t coming back.

Leaving Seokjin with a baby, and no idea what to do.


	20. Chapter Twenty

“Your first instinct was right, as far as I can tell,” Hongbin said quietly to Seokjin. He had a folder in his hand, a folder that had Yebin’s test results inside them, and Seokjin had already seen the numbers. “You shouldn’t have doubted yourself.”

Seokjin looked across the staff room to where Samuel had Yebin up on his shoulders. Her giggling was echoing through the room, a nice change from the typical screaming, as Samuel galloped around the room, making horse sounds. He had his hands anchored tightly to her chubby legs, so Seokjin wasn’t worried she was going to fall.

Samuel was good with her, though. She’d woken from her nap almost forty minutes earlier, hungry, needing a change, and her typical fussy self. Seokjin, while still on a mission to hunt down Yebin’s mother, had been willing to stop and prioritize the girl.

But then Samuel had plucked her from his arms, ignoring her wailing and kicking, blown a raspberry on her stomach, and said, “I got this if you want.”

At first Seokjin had been a little reluctant to let a sixteen-year-old kid handle the baby. But it had only taken a few minutes of observing him to tell he definitely knew what he was doing. Samuel was an only child, but he must have had a lot of experience with younger cousins or other family members. He knew how to change diapers. He knew how to feed Yebin and burp her properly, and now he was playing with her in a way that kept her completely distracted.

Seokjin didn’t mind for one bit if Samuel skipped the bathrooms, if it meant he kept Yebin happy.

“Seokjin?”

Seokjin turned towards Hongbin. He murmured, “No allergies.”

Hongbin agreed, “No allergies. Not even a hint of sensitivity to anything. We’ll have to wait a little longer to get her bloodwork back, but from what I can tell, and I just gave her another look over, she’s just as healthy as they come. There is nothing wrong with her, aside from her prickly disposition.”

She didn’t look prickly now, however. She looked terribly pleased with the attention she was getting, and showed no signs of reverting back to any crying.

It was definitely about attention with her.

A little uncomfortably, Hongbin asked, “So about the mother …”

For a while, Seokjin had held up hope that Yebin’s mother had just gotten lost, or she’d gone to use one of the other bathrooms. He talked himself into thinking that even if she had cut and run, for whatever reason, maybe she’d change her mind and come back. Maybe she’d realize her mistake.

Maybe …

The truth was staring him in the face, however. She wasn’t coming back. She’d abandoned Yebin. Everyone else was thinking it, Seokjin could tell, and now he was too.

Seokjin told Hongbin, “We already alerted the police. They said they’re running a bit thin right now, so it might be a while before they get out here. But they are on their way, and once they file their report, we’ll have someone specifically for Yebin.” A social worker of some kind, was his guess.

Hongbin looked to Yebin. “She’s playing nice now, but how long before she starts screaming again? It’s noon now, but how long can you keep her cooped up in here and not distract the other employees or patients?”

Seokjin rubbed at the bridge of his nose worriedly. “I had Yoona shuffle my schedule a little. We’re making it work.” He wasn’t going to just dump Yebin in her carrier and leave her to her own devices. He got the feeling that she had enough of that from her mother. And at least for the time being, they had staff to spare. Certainly no one was required to play with the baby, but no one had said no yet.

“Helicopter,” Samuel said loudly, pulling Yebin off his shoulders and dipping her down in a way that thrilled her. “Helicopter Yebin in action!”

“He’s good with her,” Hongbin laughed out.

“He’s practically the same age as her,” Seokjin teased a little. “But you’re right. We’re lucky he’s here right now for this. She’s loving him.”

“Jin?”

Seokjin turned towards Jessica who was coming to his side with Yebin’s baby bag. She set it up on the table next to them and said, “You’re going to want to see this.”

“See what?” When Yebin had needed a diaper change, and had gotten hungry, Samuel had been able to find all of her things in the bag without issue.

Jessica nudged the bag towards him a little. “Front pocket.”

Seokjin’s heart sunk a little as he realized what was waiting for him. “Oh, no,” he breathed out.

“What is it?” Hongbin asked.

Sighing, Seokjin pulled out and said, “This is Yebin’s birth certificate.” He set it on the table and continued, “This her medical history, including her immunization record, and this here is her citizen number.”

Confused, Hongbin wanted to know, “What’s it all doing in her baby bag?”

Seokjin shook his head a little, and thankfully it was Jessica who said, “Only a mom who plans to abandon her baby ahead of time, puts everything like this in there—unless she’s taking Yebin to apply for a passport, which I really don’t think is the case.”

No, Seokjin knew, this had been premeditated. This abandonment was something that Yebin’s mother had decided on a while ago, and had prepared for.

“There’s a lot of diapers in here, too,” Jessica observed. “A lot of formula, too many changes of clothes … Jin, this bag is stuffed.”

“Because,” Seokjin said, “Yebin’s mother knew she was leaving her daughter with us for at least a while.”

A disgusted look graced Jessica’s normally beautiful face. “What a shitty mom.”

“Jessica,” Seokjin said kindly, and a little sadly. “We don’t know what was going on with Yebin’s mother. Not for certain. But this certainly looks like a case of severe postpartum, among other potential issues. And people suffering from mental illness or these types of conditions? They’re not the villains. They’re the victims.”

Jessica at least seemed to considering his words, regardless if she agreed or not.  

“I have to get back to the front,” Jessica said, nudging at the bag in an irritated way now. “But if you need me to take a shift with her, I’m here until four.”

“Me too,” Hongbin offered, just as Jessica was leaving the room and Jonghyun was coming in. “I’m here for a couple more hours. You know I love children. I’ll gladly watch her for a while when I have a break in my appointments.”

“Thanks,” Seokjin called after him.

Jonghyun veered a huge path around Yebin to get to Seokjin and said, “I called up a friend of mine I know working down at social services. Technically they need to wait for a police report to be issued before they can be dispatched, but because we’ve already contacted the police, she’s willing to come down a little sooner and get things squared away with the kid in a timely way.”

Yebin was still cooperating wonderfully with Samuel as the teen set her down on the baby blanket they’d spread out on the floor near the sofa in the staff room. He placed her town on her tummy, with toys around her, and laid down on his own stomach to make faces at her. She was holding her own head up flawlessly, and rolling back and forth even. Samuel was scrambling to keep up with her, but at least Seokjin was pacified that Yebin was exhibiting all the benchmarks a 6-month-old should have been.

“A timely way?” Seokjin asked.

“So we can get her out of our hair,” Jonghyun clarified.

Seokjin told him flatly “She’s not a bother.”

“She’s a kink in a well-oiled, well run machine.” Jonghyun arched an eyebrow. “And she’s not our responsibility. We need to hand her off to the right people. She’s not our kid, so you have to stop looking at her like she is.”

Seokjin threw a glare at him. “I’m looking at her in a concerned way because I’m a human being and I have an emotional attachment to her. I delivered her. I’ve seen her since her birth, and she matters to me. No, she isn’t my daughter, but I’m going to treat her as if she was right now because she needs it. Her mother just abandoned her, Jonghyun. Her mother.”

Quietly, Jonghyun replied, “I get that, but she doesn’t. Look. I mean, just look at her. She has no clue her mother is long gone at this point, and she’s probably better off because of it. You don’t need to hover over her like she’ll be mistreated in some way anymore.”

“Maybe,” Seokjin eased out, “I’m a little too attached.” He had to consider that. It was fine to care about his patients, but Jonghyun wasn’t wrong. Yebin was not his daughter.

“You think?” Jonghyun said lightly. “We all do it from time to time. It’s no big deal, as long as you catch yourself and pull back.”

Seokjin risked a glance to the clock across the room. “The police sure are taking their time.”

Jonghyun didn’t look surprised. “This isn’t exactly an emergency call for them, and you better bet they saw exactly where the call came from. After your father and boyfriend played an equal part in getting the department gutted for corruption, they’re not really on friendly terms with us.”

That sparked some anger in Seokjin, and he said, “It’s fine if they want to be mad at my family, or at Bangtan, or anyone involved in what happened last year. But they’d better not let any of their issues get in the way of serving the community. They’re supposed to be better than that. They have to be.”

“Better?” Jonghyun snorted. “Seventy to eight percent of the neighborhood’s police were on Infinite’s payroll. Some of them got run out, and some of them didn’t. Of course they’re holding grudges and taking it out on our people. That’s why we have to be better, because we can’t trust them to.”

Before Seokjin could answer, Samuel popped into his line of sight. Yebin was still rolling around playfully on the ground, flinging her toys about, but Samuel was straightening his clothes and trying to fix his hair.

“Excuse me,” Jonghyun cut in. “Where do you think you’re going? You’re the baby whisperer. You get back there and whisper before she starts screaming again.”

Samuel reminded, “I said I didn’t mind working this weird shift today, but I also said I needed my lunch at the same time. Around noon.”

“You just started,” Jonghyun protested. Across the room it looked like Yebin had just discovered Samuel was missing, and she was starting to fuss.

“I know.” Samuel shrugged. “But I have lunch plans.”

“Plans,” Jonghyun sputtered.

Samuel drifted towards the door. “I know you forgot, but you’re actually the one who gave the okay. I’ll be back in an hour!”

When Jonghyun turned to Seokjin clearly for backup, Seokjin tried to say seriously, “You gave the okay.”

“I don’t believe that,” Jonghyun insisted.

Yebin let out a wail so Seokjin took strides towards her. He swept her up in his arms and bounced her a little. “Stop picking on him, Jonghyun. You like him, it’s just killing you to admit it—to admit you were wrong about him.”

“He’s still a disrespectful punk,” Jonghyun insisted.

“He’s a hard working,” Seokjin countered, “charismatic, edgy teenager. That’s the combination. He works hard, he makes you like him, and then he says or does stuff to remind you that he’s foreign, his own person, outspoken, and most of all, sixteen.”

“I’d like him more if he talked less,” Jonghyun said.

“That’s not true,” Seokjin told him. “You like that he pushes the limits with what he says, especially since he’s figured out where the line is and how not to cross it. The only thing you probably don’t like is that he’s a teenager. But shocker, he is going to grow up, and quickly at that.”

Jonghyun shrugged. “True. He won’t be sixteen forever. But he will be sixteen the entire time he’s here at the clinic. Where’s your argument there?”

Seokjin said, “I guess I don’t have one. But you know what I do have?”

“No?” Jonghyun shook his head.

“I have a consult in five minutes.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Gracefully, but without insistence, Seokjin dropped Yebin into Jonghyun’s arms. The older man struggled to hold her up for a second, and then he nearly dropped her a second time when she started wailing.

“No,” Jonghyun hissed at him. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” Seokjin said with a grin. “This is the second consult of a patient that definitely has a hernia and has his surgery scheduled for this upcoming weekend. But he’s more than a little nervous so I’m going to walk him through everything, and make sure he’s okay.”

“You are not going to leave me with this baby!” Jonghyun shouted at Seokjin as Yebin twisted away from him, screaming as she tried to nosedive back towards the ground.

“She’s just a baby,” Seokjin said, trying not to let it show on his face how much he was enjoying Jonghyun’s aversion to Yebin. Jonghyun could be good with kids. Seokjin had seen it. He just didn’t have a lot of practice, and this seemed like a good learning experience for him. “You’ll be fine, and Samuel will be back in an hour.”

Seokjin moved to the door, but Jonghyun hurried right after him, nearly pleading, “You are not going to do this to me, Jin. You are not. I have patients, too.”

“You’re doing walk-ins,” Seokjin said. “Not appointments. I think we have it covered.”

“If you do this to me,” Jonghyun said, barely sounding like he was in control as he lifted Yebin a little too high and she caught some of his hair between her fingers, pulling hard, “I want you to know I will never cover for you again. Ever. Under any circumstances.”

Seokjin stopped at the door, and tilted over to kiss one of Yebin’s wet cheeks. She leaned for him instinctively, but Seokjin made himself pull back. Jonghyun could do this, and it was only for a short while.

“Your threats are empty,” he said pointedly to Jonghyun. “You like me too much for them to mean anything. Now, you have Yebin’s bag over there, and if there is actually an emergency, try to remember you’re a doctor. You went to medical school. You’re more than capable.”

“Jin…”

“She’s a baby, not a bomb,” Seokjin told him. “Just try. If you try and nothing works, at least you tried.”

“Try,” Jonghyun said dryly, holding Yebin a little awkwardly as she reached for his hair again.

Seokjin offered, “Play with her, talk to her, sing to her.”

With Jonghyun looking stunned, Seokjin moved quickly into the hallway and closed the door to the employee room behind him. The shut door didn’t block out the sound of Yebin’s crying completely, but it mostly smothered the sound down, and hid the fact that they had a screaming baby in the clinic.

Seokjin hadn’t been lying, either. He had a follow up consult for a patient that really needed extra care to feel comfortable with his upcoming operation. And that, with Seokjin trying to take his time and not rush the man, ate up the better part of a half hour.

He tried not to let his mind drift to Jonghyun and Yebin, but it was nearly impossible. And so he let himself settle for unobtrusively checking in on them before he took another patient.

He was halfway down the hall towards the staff break room, and quite surprised not to hear even the barest hint of a whimper coming from the door in the distance, when a very distinct voice rang out behind him, “Did you know you have police officers in your lobby?”

Seokjin spun on heel, affection welling up in him as he breathed out, “Kibum, you’re back.”

Kibum, who’d been a savior to the clinic several times over, and a good friend of Seokjin’s for some time, was standing just behind him. He was looking utterly posh, like he always did, and Seokjin couldn’t begin to hazard a guess of where he’d been this time. Milan? Tokyo? Paris? New York? Who knew. Kibum was used to dazzling them all with his modeling originally, but recently he’d moved into designing, and from what Jonghyun said, he was on fire.

One night, a long, long time ago, when Seokjin and Jonghyun had gone out to the bar after a particularly long day at work, Seokjin had asked, “Does it really work for you? Him always being off doing something fashion related, and you here? You two go months without seeing each other sometimes—when he’s in the middle of a season. Does that actually work?”

He’d only probably pried so much due to the beer he’d had, and likewise, Jonghyun had only been so candid in reply because of his own saying, “It’s good for now. We’ve talked before, you know, about making Seoul a home for the both of us one day. A permanent home, where we have a regular grocery store and dry cleaner we go to, and a restaurant where the wait staff know us by name. But for now, he’s doing what he has a passion for, and it works for us, because even if he was here, I’d probably have more of a relationship with the clinic than him.”

And it really must have worked for them, and still did, because Jonghyun and Kibum were the most stable relationship Seokjin had ever seen, and he truly believed they’d stand the test of time. They acted like teenage romantics when they were around each other, too, which probably had a lot to do with the distance between them at times.

“You’re back,” Seokjin breathed out, drawing Kibum into a firm hug. “You look great.”

“I know,” Kibum said in a cheeky way. “But so you do you. Now, two questions: one, where is my boyfriend, and two, why are there cops in your lobby?”

Feeling relieved, Seokjin said, “The cops are finally here. Only a couple hours overdue, too.”

“They really hate you,” Kibum laughed out. “Good thing your boyfriend keeps the streets safer than they do.”

Seokjin leaned back to try and catch a glimpse at the front desk, but he was too far back and at too odd an angle to see anything.

 “Whatever they’re here for,” Kibum said, “Yoona is sure giving them hell.”

“How?” Seokjin asked warily.

With a familiar, Cheshire looking grin on his face, Kibum informed him, “There are two police officers out there, and she’s calling personally to the station to verify their credentials. It’s taking forever, and they look somewhere between bored and irritated. That girl is my hero, you know. They’re definitely the real deal and she knows it, but she’s making them work for it anyway. So why are they here?”

Seokjin probably should have found it a little immature that Yoona was pulling such a thing with the police, but there was nothing but amusement in him, instead.

“They’re here because … actually,” Seokjin cut himself off, “follow me. I’ll show you why.”

Kibum followed after him easily, still asking, “Okay, but where’s Jonghyun?”

Seokjin assured, “Don’t worry, when you see what I have to show you, your questions will be answered.”

Seokjin pushed open the door to the employee staff room and froze.

Standing shoulder to shoulder, Kibum breathed out, “This is a sight I never thought I would see in my life. Ever.”

Seokjin seconded that.

“Okay,” Jonghyun said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I definitely can’t explain what happened, but it’s a miracle, and I’m just going to go with it. Oh, and if any of you wake her up, I’ll murder you.”

Seokjin stared at the sight of Yebin dozing in Jonghyun’s arms. She wasn’t out completely, but she was getting there.

Jonghyun cut through the shock Seokjin was feeling to ease out, “I thought your flight didn’t come in until tonight, Key?” Jonghyun’s face softened. “I missed you.”

Kibum strode forward a little, circling Jonghyun and saying, “I know we talked about children at some point in the future, maybe, but this is a little premature, don’t you think?”

Jonghyun gave him a withered look. “She’s not mine.”

“I hope not,” Kibum laughed out. “This is not an open relationship.”

Seokjin drifted to Jonghyun’s side too, explaining, “This is Yebin. Her mother … abandoned her here. That’s why the police are here. So they can file a report on the abandonment, and then we can get a social worker assigned to Yebin.”

Kibum leaned down a little to examine Yebin, and touched the back of his fingers to her cheek softly. “She’s gorgeous.”

“Always has been,” Seokjin said with a grin. He looked to Jonghyun then and asked, “Really, how did you manage this?”

Jonghyun went red in the face.

“What?” Seokjin pressed.

It was a mumble when Jonghyun said, “You told me to sing to her. I did. She stopped screaming, and eventually, she decided to take another nap.”

Surprise lit on Seokjin’s face. “You sang to her.”

“Don’t get too excited,” Jonghyun said flatly. “I did it to calm her down. I’m not doing it again any time soon.”

A knock sounded on the door that was already open, and when he turned to look, Seokjin could see Yoona there, and two police officers standing just behind her. “Boss?” Yoona called out. “The police finally decided we were worth their time. That Yebin was worth their time.”

Seokjin’s eyes widened at her words as the cops shuffled behind her. “Thank you,” he told her, a little aggressively. “You can go back to the front now.”

Yoona rolled her eyes, then said over her shoulder as she headed back to the desk, “Looks like we have a new baby whisperer.”

The police shuffled into the room and Kibum turned to Jonghyun to say, “I’m going to go grab a coffee from across the street, okay? I didn’t get a lot of sleep on the plane.”

“Okay,” Jonghyun said softly, and gave him such a look of love that Seokjin felt even more affirmed that the two of them were utterly perfect for each other.

“I’ll bring you your regular,” Kibum promised, and then he was gone.

With Yebin still dozing in Jonghyun’s arms, Seokjin fielded questions from one officer while the other took notes. They had the kind of questions for him he’d predicted, the basic kind, and he was able to answer them all easily. And then they wanted to see all of Yebin’s paperwork, and verify with a couple of other doctors that his story matched up with theirs.

But they were gone almost as soon as they arrived, albeit with the promise to file the report and authorize the dispatch of a social worker immediately.

“Ha,” Jonghyun said sharply when they were gone.  “Screw them.” He told Seokjin, “My friend is already on her way. She said she’d be here in under an hour, and that was twenty minutes ago.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Seokjin asked, “What do you think she’ll do when she gets here? About Yebin.”

Jonghyun gave a one shoulder shrug, trying not to dislodge Yebin. “Honestly? I have no clue.”

That didn’t make Seokjin feel much better, but there wasn’t anything to do about it. So instead he asked Jonghyun, “Is she getting too heavy for you? She doesn’t weigh a lot, but it adds up after a while. I can take her if you want.”

Jonghyun’s gaze drifted down to Yebin, and there was fondness on his face for her that Seokjin hadn’t expected to see.

His voice going a little thin, Jonghyun said, “I’ve got her.”

So Seokjin let him.

But as it turned out the social worker friend Jonghyun had been expecting arrived just minutes after Samuel came back from lunch.

“Thank you letting me cash in a favor,” Jonghyun told her when she arrived.

“Of course,” She laughed out, setting her bag down and pulling out several sheets of paper and a pen. “So, what pretty girl do I have here?”

Seokjin was impressed by the way that Yebin was more alert now, but seemingly content to just lie in Jonghyun’s arms and watch the world around her.

Seokjin told her, “Lee Yebin. She’s been my patient since she was born.”

“Long story short,” Jonghyun cut in, “so you don’t have to wait on the police report, her mom—mother of the year really, apparently pretended to have to use the restroom, and dumped her kid with us. She’s long gone, and everything in Yebin’s baby bag indicates she isn’t coming back.”

Seokjin nodded and voiced, “The mother had been exhibiting symptoms of postpartum depression, and something a lot more severe than that. I’ve been worried for a while but this visit today cemented my fears. I think Yebin’s mother left her daughter here either to protect Yebin, or herself. I agree with Jonghyun. She’s not coming back, and I’d be afraid to have Yebin in her custody if she did.”

The social worker asked Seokjin bluntly, “You believe she’d harm Yebin?”

There was a pit in his stomach when he thought the words he had to say. But he forced himself to tell her, “I think that mothers who are starting to exhibit the tendencies and warning signs that Yebin’s mother is, can kill their children. That’s what I’m afraid of. That’s why, until her mother is found and treated, she shouldn’t have Yebin in her custody.”

The woman marked down most of what he was saying, nodding in agreement in a way that soothed Seokjin at least a little. It was nice to know that if Yebin’s mother was found that second, he had a woman in a position of power who wouldn’t let her simply be handed right over.

Hefting Yebin a little in his arms, Jonghyun asked, “So what’s the plan? What happens to Yebin now?”

Jonghyun’s friend said supportively, “Right now my priority will be fining a family member that is capable of caring for Yebin while all of this is sorted through. Can either of you give me a head start on that?”

“Jin?” Jonghyun asked, clenching fingers that Yebin was playing with.

“I can tell you right now,” Seokjin said, “you have your work cut out for you. Yebin’s father died before she was born, and both of her parents are only children. None of Yebin’s grandparents are still alive, either.”

“Don’t make my job too easy,” she chuckled.

Seokjin gave her a small, encouraging smile. “There is a cousin. Yebin’s mother has a cousin. She was with her when she gave birth to Yebin six months ago. As far as I know, she’s the only living relative.”

“Have a name?”

“I could find out,” Seokjin said with a nod. “We log everyone who comes in and out of this clinic, and she was there when Yebin was born. She had to sign in and present her ID to be present at the birth. Of course it could be some time before we can pull that name for you. We don’t have all our old medical files stored at this location right now. We just don’t have the room for it. Give us until tomorrow, and we can have a name for you.”

“Okay,” she said, nodding at Seokjin appreciatively. “Please fax the information over to my office.” She handed him a card with all her information on it and turned towards Yebin asking, “She has all of her items here?”

Jonghyun frowned. “She has her diapers and formula. Some toys and clothes.”

When the woman held her arms out for Yebin, Jonghyun took a sudden step back.

“What’s wrong?” Seokjin asked, looking between the two of them, not sure what was happening.

“You can’t just take her,” Jonghyun said, voice pitching. “You don’t know where that cousin is.”

“You’re right,” she replied. “And so for the time being, we need to relocate Yebin to a safe house for the night.”

“And then?” At the tone in Jonghyun’s voice, Yebin was starting to make fussy noises and kick out. That was how tantrums always started.

“Jonghyun,” she said softly. “You know where she goes from here, either short term or long term depending on if we can find a family member willing to take her.”

There was look of something terrified on Jonghyun’s face, like Seokjin had never seen before, and he was holding the baby even tighter.

“You are not,” Jonghyun said sharply, “going to put her into some group home where she’s one of fifteen children, barely getting any attention, just waiting until she can be moved to a bigger orphanage where she’ll be relegated to a crib all day long and no one will care about her.”

Softly, the woman said, “We don’t call them orphanages anymore.”

“That doesn’t make then not orphanages,” Jonghyun snapped back.

Yebin let out a loud cry, and that only seemed to make Jonghyun hunch over her a little more protectively.

“Jonghyun,” Seokjin pointed out, “she has to go somewhere. You knew that.”

He couldn’t understand why Jonghyun was suddenly so defensive and adverse to his friend taking Yebin.

“You don’t get it,” Jonghyun told him, shushing Yebin and bouncing her against his shoulder a little. “Jin … Key … he … he grew up in a boy’s home. He grew up in a place just like they’re going to try and stick Yebin. And he said it was…torture. People don’t care about you there. You’re just a check from the government. You don’t have any rights. You don’t have any personal space. You don’t have anyone who loves you. We are not going to hand Yebin over to suffer what he did.”

Seokjin, on the whole, knew very little about Kibum as a child. He did know that Kibum’s parents had died young, and that for a while, his grandmother had raised him. Seokjin simply hadn’t pried into what had happened after that, because he knew how Kibum turned out. He knew that Kibum had worked himself to the bone to be able to support himself as soon as he aged out of the system, and then he’d been picked up by a modeling agency a year after that. Seokjin didn’t know details, but suddenly he wished he did.

But Jimin had been in a foster or group home for some time. And though that had turned out horrific in the end for most of the people there, it had been because of the gang controlling the area, and not the people there. From what Seokjin had been able to get out of Yoongi and Jimin, it hadn’t been such a terrible time for Jimin when he was young. There’d been people who cared for him there. It had been a home.

Seokjin asked the woman, “If no suitable guardian is found, and Yebin’s mother never … she can’t take her back, what happens to her then?”

“Then,” she said, “we’d do our best to try and find her home—a new family.”

Seokjin did know the adoption statistics in South Korea, however, and they were abysmally low.

“But,” she pressed on, “Yebin needs a place to stay for the time being, and she won’t have any potential family until tomorrow at the earliest.”

Seokjin was going to send Lizzy out to where they archived all their old records right away. He’d pay her overtime, if necessary, to have her pull up the file for Yebin’s birth as quickly as possible.

“We have to hand her over,” Seokjin said to Jonghyun. “We don’t have an alternative.” He cared deeply for Yebin, but he couldn’t haul her home with him. He wasn’t prepared to balance his work and personal life with the addition of a baby, at least at the moment.

Jonghyun, apparently, felt different. Because he cradled a hand to the back of Yebin’s head as she settled against him, and said, “I can take her tonight.”

Jonghyun’s friend asked him flatly, “You want to take her for the night?”

Jonghyun gave a sharp nod. “Until tomorrow, when you can contact the cousin and hear what she has to say about taking Yebin.”

“Think about this,” Seokjin urged, not trying to sway him either way. “It’s a lot of responsibility, even for a night, and you’re very vocal about how little you like children. Jonghyun, you didn’t want anything to do with Yebin earlier. And what about Kibum? Is he going to be okay with you suddenly bringing a baby home?”

Jonghyun replied, “I fuss just to fuss. You know that. I don’t dislike Yebin. I …”

Seokjin sensed his desperation, so he asked the social worker, “Can he take her for tonight? Can he get authorization for that? Just for tonight? For safe keeping?”

The woman clearly resisted the idea with her body language.

“Look at her,” Seokjin pressed. “She’s comfortable with him, and taking her away might cause distress.”

Sighing deeply, the woman said, “Let me go make a call to my supervisor. If I get the okay there, then we can make it happen.”

She stepped out of the room to make a call, and Jonghyun sat wearily on the sofa.

“Jonghyun,” Seokjin said gingerly, trailing after him. “What’s wrong?”

Jonghyun only shook his head, peering down at Yebin as he told Seokjin, “Some of the stuff Key’s told me about growing up in that group home. The things he had to … I am not going to let that happen to her. At least not any sooner than it has to, if there is no family for her. She deserves better. Actually, no one deserves what Key went through.”

“So he’ll be okay with you having a baby for a night?”

“Are you serious?” Jonghyun laughed. “He hasn’t really cut back on the runway because he’s getting tired of it, or he wants to start expanding the clothing brand he’s been working on. He’s better cutting back to wing himself off the rush he gets. Because we’re getting older, and the clinic is a lot more stable now, and we’re … we’re talking about our future. We’re talking about a family now.”

“Kids?” Seokjin deadpanned. “You make such a fuss about them all the time.”

Jonghyun gave a revealing smile. “I like them more than you think. I just never know what to do with them. Yebin … she could be practice I definitely need. A crash course. And yeah, Key’s going to be really okay with this for a night.”

“Okay,” Seokjin decided. “Then I’ll back you up on this.”

Jonghyun was a good person. He was better than most. And so even if Seokjin hadn’t already known Jonghyun was real in his affection of Yebin, he would have backed him anyway. Jonghyun was a doctor, first and foremost, and a good one. He wouldn’t let any harm come to Yebin, and he’d take care of her until family could be reached.

As it turned out, Jonghyun got his baby. The social worker returned fifteen minutes later with papers for Jonghyun to sign, and then she prefaced, “This is only for tonight, Jonghyun, and likely the morning to midafternoon tomorrow. I’ll be contact with you before then about Yebin’s situation.” She grimaced. “We’re old friends, Jonghyun. Don’t make me regret going out on a limb for you here with my boss.”

Seokjin wondered just what she’d said to get Jonghyun temporary custody for the night.

“You’d better run this by Kibum as soon as you can,” Seokjin told him. “You have a surgery scheduled for tomorrow morning, and you have to be here early for the pre-op consult. You’ll have to pawn your new daughter off on him for it. If you can stomach the idea of her being out of your sight for thirty seconds. Psh, and you say I have attachment issues.”

“Ha-ha.”

Seokjin clasped him on the shoulder and said, “Okay, I’m going to get back to work. Your baby, your responsibility to find someone to watch her so you can get back on the floor.”

Jonghyun shouted after him, “If you see my boyfriend, send him back to talk to me. Obviously, we have a little more baggage than we started with.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Seokjin pointed out.

But for how unexpected the whole day had gone, Seokjin was pleased with how smoothly it ran. He did send Lizzy off to look for the information they needed, but there was no shortage of people willing to take turns watching Yebin until Jonghyun was off at six.

And Seokjin was updating the whiteboard with patient information when the end of Jonghyun’s shift, and Key returned to the clinic, after leaving for a few hours, to pick Jonghyun and the baby up. He didn’t bother to hide the smile on his face as Key shifted Yebin onto his hip effortlessly, no tantrum in sight, and the three of them left the clinic with plans for dinner.

“What’s got you so happy?” Yoona asked. She was slipping the strap to her purse over her shoulder in preparation to leave as well.

“Today,” he said simply, shrugging. “It could have turned out horribly, but it didn’t. That’s always a reason to feel happy.”

“I guess,” she said. “But even if it did work out fine, we still had a mom abandon her baby here. How could anyone do that?”

“Lots of reasons,” Seokjin told her. “And I will always prefer that a parent, mom or dad, leave their baby somewhere safe, rather than anything else happen. Maybe Yebin’s mom acted selfishly today. Maybe she left Yebin because she was only thinking of herself. But maybe she left Yebin here to protect Yebin, or keep her safe. And that’s what I prefer to consider this as a good thing. Because we are going to keep Yebin safe. We are going to take care of her for as long as we can. And that is why today is a good day and I’m happy.”

Yoona gave him an incredulous look.

“What?” Seokjin asked.

“Nothing.” She smothered down a grin. “I just think we definitely need more people like you around here.”

Seokjin protested, “We have a lot of good people around here. I’m looking at one of them, and I only work with people like that.” It was the middle of summer, so even at half past six it was still light out, but all the same, Seokjin asked, “Can I walk you to your car?”

“I am always happy to have a handsome man walk me to my car,” Yoona said in a flirty tone.

“Don’t try that with me,” Seokjin laughed, putting down the marker for the white board and guiding her towards the front door. “You forget I know your boyfriend, and he’s twice my size. I’m not picking a fight with him for any reason.”

Yoona waved his concern off. “You don’t try that with me, Doctor Kim. You know he likes you. He tries to strong arm you into having beers with him practically every weekend. And he likes to brag to all his other friends that he knows some hotshot miracle working doctor who’s going to win a noble peace prize someday.”

“Hardly,” Seokjin snorted out when they exited the clinic into the stifling hot weather of June.

Seokjin considered Yoona’s boyfriend more of a friend of a friend, but he liked the guy ultimately. Seokjin thought he was a good fit for Yoona, and they’d been dating long enough that they’d probably already worked out just how good they were for each other.

At Yoona’s car, she stopped him to ask, “Is it a good idea Jonghyun took the baby home with him?”

Seokjin pointed out, “I hardly think he’s going to smother her in her sleep, even if she starts screaming again.” There’d been way too much of a telling look on Jonghyun’s face, as he held Yebin, to suggest he was anything but infatuated with her. “I think it is a good idea. He and Kibum will take care of her, which is what she needs right now.”

Yoona shuffled on her feet. “I just think it’s a little crazy. I would have expected you to take her home long before Jonghyun.”

“Me?” Seokjin recoiled a little.

“You’re good with kids,” Yoona said with a shrug, popping open her door. “And the way you are with Jungkook? It says more than you think. I mean, a lot of us have half been expecting you to start getting a family going any day now, especially since the clinic is pretty stable.”

He’d known Yoona a while now. He trusted her. He considered her not just an employee, but also a friend. So he told her, “I want a family. And I’m with the person I want to have a family with. Plus, you’re right, this is the most stable the clinic has ever been. We’re not in the red right now. We have guaranteed funding for a couple more years. I have doctors signed on that I trust, and believe in, and I know are invested in this clinic.”

“You want to get married first?” Yoona asked.

“I don’t see a ring on your finger,” Seokjin challenged. He thought it was far too soon for talk about a wedding, even if he knew Namjoon was the man he was going to marry. But Yoona had been with her boyfriend five years. Five years was a long time to be committed to someone and not at least be thinking about marriage.

She sung out in a flitty voice, “But I’ve seen it.”

“Excuse me?” Seokjin demanded.

Yoona slid into her car. “Do all men hide engagement rings in their dresser drawers? If so, you might want to get the memo that when you live with someone, they’re probably going to go through your drawers at some point.”

Seokjin took a step back so she could close her door and told her, “I’ll send that memo out, okay?”

She gave him a wink, turned on her car, and then pulled out of the parking lot.

Marriage was … marriage was a big step. A huge step, actually. But Seokjin had actually spoken to Namjoon about that once before. They’d talked about the kind of wedding each of them preferred, and the details of it, and Namjoon had painted a picture in Seokjin’s mind of something magical when the time was right. But they didn’t talk about children.

Seokjin though they definitely had to talk about children if they had their eye on marriage one day.

They weren’t going to be rushing off to have children anytime soon, but Seokjin was terribly twitchy when it came to routine, and schedules, and having things set. He felt like he’d feel better if he and Namjoon talked about that aspect of their future, and with what had happened recently with Yebin, it felt even more relevant.

That was if he and Namjoon could find the time to talk. Namjoon seemed even more distracted as each day passed, and more anxious. And Seokjin felt the stab of guilt in him every time he tried to approach Namjoon to come clean about his trip with Jimin, only to be denied by something.

Though speaking of Jimin …

Seokjin, from the parking lot across the street and a half block down, could easily make out the sight of Jimin on his motorcycle, idling at a red light. It was the red light in front of the clinic, and Jimin’s bike was unmistakable. But the bigger and more interesting thing that caught his eye, was the fact that Jimin was very much not alone on his bike. There was certainly someone on the back, sitting leisurely on the bike, a helmet obscuring any details that Seokjin might have picked up on. He couldn’t even tell if the second person was male or female.

The light changed then, and the passenger leaned forward, molding against Jimin’s back, and then they were off.

What had that been?

Seokjin felt rooted to the ground.  It was one thing to be told that Jimin was potentially interested in someone else and putting them on the back of his bike, and another to witness it completely.

It was baffling, honestly, and the implications were huge.

But as the sun beat down on his skin in an uncomfortable way, Seokjin found himself grinning. Jimin moving on was only a good thing, and if he felt like he was ready, Seokjin wasn’t going to judge him, or meddle in his business. Jimin would say something when the time was right, or when he was ready. And until then, Seokjin was just going to support him.

Still, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to know who this person was that had caught Jimin’s attention.

Though that also seemed like a mystery left for another day. So Seokjin headed back to the clinic to finish his shift, and tried to put it from his mind.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

Jonghyun was so ridiculously adorable as a makeshift dad, that Seokjin could barely stand it.

When he’d gone home, five or so hours after Jonghyun had left with Kibum and baby Yebin in tow, it had been to an empty, quiet, cold apartment. Nothing new, of course. The same men that he expected to see were stationed outside, but Namjoon was nowhere to be found, and Seokjin had anticipated as much.

He’d made himself dinner, something small and easy to clean up, and then he’d settled into the formal dining room in the apartment, where they almost never ate at, and spread out some of the clinic’s paperwork. He had his laptop open to the side as well, with projected graphs of everything from patient yield, to expenses for the upcoming month.

Once a month he felt utterly overloaded like he was now. Once a month, always at the beginning, he was responsible for checking and double checking all of the money that flowed in and out of the clinic. But not just the money, either. He needed to verify incident reports, file wavers, double check expenditures, okay upcoming vouchers, properly report any additional funding they’d received from outside sources, and do it all on top of the regular paperwork.

He’d started working at eleven at night when he’d gotten home, and when he forced himself to get up and get some water and stretch his legs, it was closer to three.

Namjoon still wasn’t home, but Seokjin still wasn’t surprised.

What did surprise him, however, as he nudged away his laptop and ignored several emails he’d received from prominent hospitals, were the messages coming into his phone.

They weren’t messages, actually, per say, but pictures.

Dating all the way back from around midnight, Jonghyun had been sending pictures of Yebin. Adorable pictures, actually, of Yebin in a pretty pink frock she hadn’t been wearing earlier, and one of her in the bath, and another of Kibum holding her up so it looked like she was dancing across the carpet. There were also several pictures of her in various sleeping positions.

Seokjin texted him back, after the latest picture came in at just after three in the morning, “You have a surgery in four hours. Stop letting a cute baby distract you.”

The phone beeped back almost right away, and then it was a picture of Jonghyun sprawled out on his bed, hidden under a mountain of blankets, with a bare foot poking out the bottom. He was clearly deep asleep, and in a spot next to him barricaded on all sides by fluffy pillows, was a sleeping Yebin.

Seokjin texted, “Why are you using Jonghyun’s phone, Kibum?”

Kibum texted back, “Why are you even awake?”

Before Seokjin could type back, the heard the locks turning on the front door.

There was a spike of anxiety in him, a throwback to when he’d had an intruder in his home. But a moment later a weary looking Namjoon came through the front door. He still had a smile for Seokjin, however, when he spotted him.

“Hey,” Namjoon said with a scratchy, tired voice. He trailed into the kitchen to greet Seokjin properly with a kiss. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Early,” Seokjin corrected. “And I’m just working.”

“Working?” Namjoon asked gruffly, practically falling into the chair next to Seokjin. “Jin, it’s so late.”

Seokjin slid a paper with an expenditure report for supplies in his direction and said, “Graphs wait for no one.” He said a little more seriously, “It’s the beginning of the month. You know what that means. I have to make sure we’re set for the next four weeks, and catch any mistakes if they’re there.”

Namjoon folded his arms up on the table and pillowed his head in them. “You need to get a secretary for this. An accountant. Anything. Whatever. This shouldn’t be something you’re responsible for.”

“It’s my clinic,” Seokjin said simply.

“And that was fine,” Namjoon told him, “when it was just a couple of rooms servicing a set number of people every month. But you’re much bigger now. You can’t, no matter how much you try, do it all on your own.”

“I don’t do it all on my own.” Seokjin took back his paper, and shuffled some stuff around to give Namjoon more room. “I just need to handle the really important stuff on my own. Just once a month.”

Namjoon gave a dissatisfied grunt. “The whole way home I was thinking about coming back to you in our bed. I was going to curl up against you all warm and squishy, and do that thing that you hate where I attach to you like an octopus.”

Seokjin gave a much-needed laugh and offered, “You can still go get in bed, you know. I only have a little bit left to do tonight, and I’ll finish the rest tomorrow. You could go get the bed warm for once.”

Seokjin’s phone gave a series of chirps.

“Who’s that?” Namjoon glared at the phone. “No one better be trying to call you in for an emergency or something.”

“It’s not that,” Seokjin promised. “And you know we don’t do emergencies like that at the clinic. Not the overnight kind. Not yet at least.”

That sort of thing seemed years off. The clinic was very financially stable at the moment, and was holding its own considering all things. But they had set hours, and that was that. It would be a long time more before they were able to stay open longer, or even twenty-four hours. And it would probably be longer than that before they could offer a trauma surgeon at all hours, and a recovery ward to match.

They’d get there. Seokjin had no doubt about that. But it was going to take time.

Seokjin told Namjoon, “This is more likely to be one of your men, calling me with a medical emergency, than one of my employees. But before you get all worked up, it’s neither. It’s Jonghyun.” He shook his head and corrected, “Actually, it’s Kibum using Jonghyun’s phone.”

“Why’s Key using Jonghyun’s phone?”

Seokjin swiped his phone’s screen and wasn’t surprised when a series of text messages popped up, all of them with pictures imbedded. Seokjin opened one of the pictures, a shot of Jonghyun drooling into his mattress lined up with a photo of Yebin doing the same, and showed it to Namjoon.

In a confused way, Namjoon asked, “When did Jonghyun get a kid?”

Seokjin gave him the abridged version of what had happened, and finished with, “Lizzy is trying to dig up the cousin’s name and information from Yebin’s birth, but she already let me know it’s a slow process and she’s not even sure if she’ll find it tomorrow. And in the meanwhile, Jonghyun is taking care of Yebin. I had my doubts initially, of course. Jonghyun isn’t overly … paternal, but I think it only took a couple minutes alone with Yebin for him to fall in love. He’ll take good care of her until a proper home for her can be found.”

“That’s one hell of a day you’ve had,” Namjoon said. “How are you still awake? You should have crashed by now.”

Seokjin pressed a chaste kiss to Namjoon’s mouth and reminded, “I did thirty-six hour shifts in medical school when I was younger.  I’d catch a couple of hours here or there, but I was on my feet and working for most of that time. This? This is nothing compared to that. Medical school is grueling, and kind of like torture at times, but it, and the residency where you really show your skills, help prepare you for the future of the profession.”

“If you’re a hard worker like you,” Namjoon pointed out. “Or a doctor that actually cares and wants to help people instead of sitting in some posh office.”

“I could have been some doctor sitting in a posh office.”

“Nah.” Namjoon shook his head. “Even if you took some fancy job at a prestigious hospital, I know you. I know what kind of person you are. You wouldn’t be satisfied with that.”

Those kinds of words hit deeper in him than he thought Namjoon would ever really know, and validated him in a way. He certainly didn’t need his boyfriend to tell him what kind of doctor he was, but hearing it felt nice.

“Cute, right?” Seokjin asked, swiping to show Namjoon some other photos.

“Cute,” Namjoon agreed. He got up from the table and shuffled towards the refrigerator. “What did you make for dinner? Any leftovers?”

“No, sorry” Seokjin told him. But then he offered up, “You know, today with Yebin really got me thinking.”

“About what?” Namjoon asked in a distracted way, moving things around in the refrigerator.

“About us,” Seokjin supplied, angling in his chair towards Namjoon. “About our future.”

Namjoon cocked his head in an uncertain way. “Jin? What does our future have to do with some baby that got left behind at your clinic?”

Slumping back a little in his chair, Seokjin said, “I just thought about Yebin’s mother, who was clearly in need of medical attention, and who was pushed to her breaking point, then inevitably ended up abandoning her child. Everyone wanted to vilify her immediately, and I just felt bad for her. I’m not justifying what she did, but I felt so bad. And I thought, when I’m a parent, I’m not going to let that happen. Or I’m going to do everything in my power to get help if I need it.”

Namjoon froze at the refrigerator.

Seokjin pushed on, “So I want you to promise me something, Namjoon. When we’re parents, and we have a little one of our own, I want you to promise me that if you see me struggling, or needing help, you will say something, and you won’t give up even if I say I’m fine.”

“Jin,” Namjoon said awkwardly.

“I want to think,” Seokjin said, “that I couldn’t be someone like Yebin’s mother, but the truth is I don’t know. I haven’t been a father before. I haven’t felt that stress. And there is no preparing for something like parenthood. You don’t know what it’s like until it hits you right in the face.”

Namjoon let the refrigerator door close, and in a pinched way, asked, “Kids?”

There was something obstinate about the way Namjoon was standing now, and the tone of his voice, but Seokjin thought it could just be from how hard he’d been working, and how tired he was now.

“Obviously not today,” Seokjin chuckled out.  “Or this year, or next year, or anything like that. But yeah, of course, kids.”

“Jin,” Namjoon said his name again, and this time it sounded even worse.

Seokjin’s stomach bottomed out. “What? Namjoon, what?”

“We…” Namjoon’s voice went thin.

Nervously now, Seokjin said, “I know we haven’t really talked about children all that much but … you know I want them, right? You know I want to be a father very badly.”

Namjoon leaned a little boneless against the refrigerator. “But your heart.”

“What about it?” Seokjin found himself sounding a little defensive, and wondered where it came from. But it didn’t feel wrong. “Namjoon, my heart is part of the reason I want to have children. Even if I don’t have any biological children, I want to be normal, just like everyone else. I want to have a full and complete life, and that means experiencing all the things that everyone else gets to. But even underneath all that, I want to be a father because it feels like a calling. It feels like something I was meant for.”

Oh god. Seokjin could see the look on Namjoon’s face, and he knew what it meant.

He was almost afraid to say the words that came tumbling out of his mouth, “But you don’t feel that way.”

Namjoon exhaled through his nose in a loud way. In a frustrated way.

“You don’t want to be a father,” Seokjin inferred. “You don’t want children.”

How could he have not known this? How could he have let him picture a future with Namjoon and just make all kinds of assumptions?

“I don’t hate children,” Namjoon said quickly. “You know I don’t.”

“But you don’t want them.”

Seokjin found himself gripping the edge of the table, feeling a little faint.

“I don’t think,” Namjoon said, “it would be responsible for us to have them.”

“Responsible?” Seokjin barely got out.

Namjoon rushed to add, “For me, at least. For me.”

“What are you talking about?” Seokjin demanded.

Namjoon made his way back to the table, but he didn’t sit. That didn’t bode well.

“Look around you, Jin,” Namjoon implored. “Look at what I am, and what I do, and the decisions I have to make.”

With a dry laugh, Seokjin asked, “Are you telling me you don’t want kids because of Bangtan? Because of the gang that you started to actually take care of and protect kids?”

“Not because of Bangtan,” Namjoon said back quickly. “Because of all the other gangs out there.”

Seokjin shook his head.

“Damnit, Jin,” Namjoon breathed out. “Look at what happened to you with Infinite. Hell, look at what happened to you a couple weeks ago. Someone came into this apartment, our home, and tried to kill you. And I wasn’t here to save you. You saved yourself, and it was a miracle you did.”

“Namjoon,” Seokjin tried.

“Now imagine,” Namjoon continued on, “that we had a child and that child had been here. Imagine someone specifically targeting our baby to hurt me. Imagine … fuck, imagine someone killing our baby to send a message.”

Seokjin snapped back in shock.

“Don’t think it couldn’t happen, either,” Namjoon said, voice rising. “Don’t you dare think for one second that if we let ourselves go down that road, and have a family, that someone won’t look at our baby and think they can send a message.”

Doom was welling up in Seokjin suddenly, and he hated every second of it. But he felt like he couldn’t get his mouth to work now, and every word he wanted to get out, was stuck in his throat.

“I feel like shit some days,” Namjoon told him, “bringing you into this world. You say it’s your choice, and you understand and accept all the dangers, but some days I still feel like I’m the one who’s going to be responsible for you getting killed. And you’re an adult. I love you and I will do my best to protect you, but you’re an adult and you make your own choices. But a baby, Jin? A child? There’s no justification for us putting a child into this kind of situation—into this kind of world. I will always be neck deep in a situation that could turn sour in a moment’s notice, and I am not going to be the one to put a baby into the same situation. I will not.”

Seokjin had to clear his throat before he said, “You’re talking about the reasons why you don’t think you should have a child, but you’re not saying if you want to.”

“Those two things are tied together irrevocably, Jin.”

“Not to me,” Seokjin replied.

“I won’t have kids,” Namjoon said definitively. “I won’t have them when I know what danger I’ll be putting them into. I won’t be that shit person who gets their baby killed because they wanted one more than they were willing to weight the implications of one.”

And that…that just broke Seokjin’s heart.

His knees were wobbling a little as he got up, pushing the chair back from the table.

“I have wanted to be a father since I was young,” Seokjin said evenly, if a bit quietly. “I have known that for a long time. And yes, the world is a scary, sometimes horrible place. But there’s good out there, too. There are good people, and things we can do to keep our family safe, and options. I don’t want to give up being a father just because I’m scared of what could happen.”

“Could?”

“We can keep our baby safe,” Seokjin said bluntly.

Harshly, Namjoon told him, “You’re woefully ignorant if you think that.”

This seemed like such an impossibility to Seokjin. It felt like he was living in some alternate reality, or dreaming—more like having a nightmare. He just couldn’t comprehend the words he had heard come out of Namjoon’s mouth. He couldn’t believe the severity of them.

“I have known you were the one I wanted to marry for a while now,” Seokjin told him precariously. “And when I thought about our future, it was always me and you, Namjoon, and then a bigger family. I want to marry you, and grow old with you, but I also want to have kids with you.”

Wordlessly, and with pursed, pale lips, Namjoon shook his head.

Seokjin couldn’t imagine a future where he wasn’t a father. He adored children. He loved the idea of having one or more of his own, and teaching them how to be good people, and watching them grow, and getting to attend school functions and sports games and recitals and everything in between. Having such a hand in raising Jungkook had only intensified the want.

No, the need.

And he wasn’t going to give something like that up.

In a scared way, he asked Namjoon, “Are you telling me you won’t ever consider having children? Ever?”

“Why can’t we be enough?” Namjoon asked a little desperately. “I love you so much. You are it for me, Jin. You’re the one. I want to just live my life with you by my side. We should be enough for each other.”

Horrifically, Seokjin thought back to what Yebin’s mother had said. The woman had told Seokjin frankly, before she’d abandoned her daughter, that she hadn’t wanted children. She’d just wanted to live well with her husband.

She’d had such resentment for Yebin, even if none of it was her fault. And Seokjin was terrified that resentment would wedge itself between Seokjin and Namjoon regardless if they had children or not.

“I …” Seokjin felt like he might shatter apart into a million pieces.

“Jin,” Namjoon said, emotion soaking his voice.

Seokjin thought he could see the proverbial line in the sand ahead of him. He could see himself standing on one side, and Namjoon on the other, and it was no situation he’d thought he’d ever find himself in.

Because Namjoon was the one. Namjoon was supposed to be his husband someday, and the person Seokjin raised children with, and who he bought a house with, and who he grew old with. Namjoon was supposed to be everything, and his heart was aching from what came next. The inevitable next.

The impossible next.

“I want to be a father,” Seokjin said bluntly. There was no sugar coating what he had to say. There was no telling Namjoon gently.  “I dream of it. And I can’t … I can’t have a future with someone that doesn’t want that too.”

Namjoon was so white in the face that he looked ill.

“I need someone,” Seokjin nearly whispered out, “that wants the same things I do, and is going to stand next to me in all aspects of my life, including parenthood.”

“Jin, don’t do this.” Namjoon was physically shaking. Seokjin could see it. “Jin.”

“I can’t give up a dream I have for anyone. No even you.” Seokjin took a step back from the table.

Then Seokjin could see the unshed tears in Namjoon’s eyes.

Tears that he was responsible for putting there.

“Are you giving me an ultimatum?” Namjoon asked, blinking hard against the tears.

“No.” Seokjin shook his head sharply. “I’m just…I’m telling you the truth. Namjoon, I love you, but I can’t let something like this fester between us. I can’t let us grow to resent each other, and one of us will end up resenting the other, no matter how the future goes. I love you too much to let you grow to resent me, or for me to resent you.”

“So you just want to … to do this?” Namjoon demanded, sounding angry now. “You want to throw us away over a baby we don’t even have?”

Feeling out of breath like he’d run some kind of marathon, Seokjin bent forward, putting his hands on his knees.

“I think we need to take some time apart.”

Seokjin didn’t want to throw anything away. And he didn’t want to rush into any sudden decisions. This new information had come to light so quickly that Seokjin felt like he needed to slow down a little. He needed to breathe.

“Time,” Namjoon echoed a bit dully.

Seokjin’s hands were trembling as he tried to gather up his stuff on the table. “I’ll go and—”

“No,” Namjoon interrupted, looking so inconsolable and broken. “You stay here. You … I’m going. I’ll go.”

“Namjoon!” Seokjin called after him, but at something close to a run, Namjoon was off towards the door, and out it just a second later.

Seokjin’s phone gave a chime, probably another photo from Kibum, and Seokjin wanted to hurl it across the room.

He settled for shutting the lid to his laptop, abandoning clinic business, and trudging his way to the bedroom. He shed his clothing almost mechanically, and climbed in bed, pulling the covers almost past his chin.

Namjoon didn’t want children.

He didn’t want children, and trying to budge him from that position would break something in their dynamic.

Namjoon didn’t want children, and that meant Seokjin’s future with Namjoon was evaporating before his eyes.

It wasn’t fair. Nothing felt fair.

And now he was worried about Namjoon. He’d blown out of the apartment without anything that wasn’t already on him, and who knew where he’d gone. Namjoon had already looked so tired. He needed to be getting into bed, next to Seokjin, and going to sleep where he was safe.

But he wasn’t, and now Seokjin wasn’t even sure if they had a relationship anymore.

He slept fitfully that night, going in and out of sleep easily and getting absolutely no rest. And in the morning, feeling ashamed and guilty, and still heartbroken, he called in sick to work.

He never called in sick, but he did it anyway, too scared that he’d get five feet into the clinic and everyone would somehow know what had happened between himself and Namjoon. And calling in sick wasn’t fair for the rest of the staff, considering Jonghyun had a surgery that morning, and Hongbin was doing a special consult at a different hospital. His inability to get out of bed had short staffed the clinic, which gave him something extra to be guilty about.

He stayed in bed anyway.

Rather, he stayed in bed for a couple of hours, trying to play out a scenario in his mind where he and Namjoon could find a middle ground of sorts, and then he dawdled on his phone.

But boredom got the best of him eventually, so he got out of bed, took a shower, and threw himself back into his paperwork.

Jungkook, unsurprisingly with a loud bang and thudding feet, came through his front door at just half past eleven, which matched up properly with his first class of the day ending.

“You have two classes today,” Seokjin called out to him. “Why are you risking missing the second?”

Jungkook practically charged up to him, skidding to a stop in front of the formal dining room, and looking hard at him.

“What?” Seokjin asked, vision going blurry from a lack of proper sleep. He rubbed at his eyes and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because,” Jungkook said a little shrilly, “I got a call from your clinic this morning saying you were sick, and you never get sick, except for when it’s serious. And you don’t look sick now, so I’m trying to figure out what’s going on.”

“Who called you?” Seokjin demanded.

Unabashedly, Jungkook said, “Yoona called me. She wanted me to come by and check on you, if I had the time, because like I just said, you never get sick unless it’s serious” Jungkook’s eyes drifted around the table that Seokjin’s paperwork was spread out on. “Did you call in sick so you could work on … this stuff?”

Exhausted, Seokjin got up and crossed into the kitchen, reaching for a mug from the cabinet and starting a new pot of tea.

“Jin?” Jungkook called out in a worried way.

He felt his brother’s presence behind him in the kitchen, and it was like the glue that had been barely holding him together over the past few hours, was rubbing thin. It felt nearly gone. He braced his hands down on the counter top in front of him, and closed his eyes.

“Okay,” Jungkook said, voice wavering with uncertainty, “tell me what’s going on right now. Something is wrong.”

Opening his eyes, Seokjin pivoted towards Jungkook and said simply, “I think my relationship with Namjoon is over.”

Jungkook froze. His mouth dropped open a little. “Wh-what?”

Seokjin clenched his fingers into fists and said, “Last night … early this morning we …”

He couldn’t get the words out. He just couldn’t.

But Jungkook sure could, as he exploded, “You’re breaking up! How can you be breaking up? You guys love each other. You’ve been to hell and back. You’re like the most stable couple I’ve ever seen in my life. You’re perfect for each other. You’re—”

“Jungkook,” Seokjin cut him off.

Jungkook took deep breaths. “Are you serious? I mean serious, serious? You two …”

“It comes down to this,” Seokjin said, because he’d never hidden anything from Jungkook before, and he wasn’t about to start now, “we want different futures. We see different futures.”

Jungkook seemed baffled.

Seokjin went about making his tea, if only to keep his sanity, and said, “We love each other. That’s not in question here, Jungkook. We love each other very much. But we don’t … we don’t see ourselves in the same place in the future, and love doesn’t matter at all when it comes to that.”

“You two can’t break up,” Jungkook said.

“I want kids,” Seokjin told him. “I want kids and Namjoon doesn’t. I want school functions, and sporting events, and parent-teacher conferences, and birthday parties and family trips. I want a future where Namjoon and I are parents, and you’re an uncle, and there are children. For me, that’s nonnegotiable.”

Jungkook winced. “Rap Mon doesn’t want kids?”

“No,” Seokjin said with a wry laugh. “He doesn’t. And I can’t have a future with someone who doesn’t want the same important things I do.”

“Shit,” Jungkook mumbled. Seokjin couldn’t help feeling the same sentiment.

“I just assumed,” Seokjin said. “I didn’t bother to ask, I just assumed Namjoon wanted children, too. I’ve talked about them before, and he never said anything.”

“You can’t work this out?” Jungkook asked, hopping up on the countertop next to Seokjin. He normally would have swatted his brother down and reminded him that he prepared food where he was sitting, but it seemed so inconsequential now.

“Work it out?” Seokjin asked almost angrily. “Jungkook, how would you like us to work this out? I give up the one thing I want most in the world, and end up resenting or maybe hating Namjoon some day? I pretend to be okay that we don’t have children, and that I don’t blame Namjoon for it?”

Jungkook’s eyes were so wide they were almost doe-like.

“Or,” Seokjin drawled on, “Namjoon gives in and we have children, which he then grows to resent? Children that he can’t love properly, or feel a connection to, or even want. I’m supposed to expose my children to someone who doesn’t want them? That will drive a wedge between us, Jungkook, and damage our children, and ruin our relationship and just … just …”

“Shit,” Jungkook said again.

Shifting his forearms up on the countertop, Seokjin hung his head. “I love Namjoon more than you can possibly imagine. I love him in a timeless way, like we could be seventy years old and I’d still love him just as much as I do today. But …”

Seokjin mad a low sound as Jungkook crashed into him, enveloping him in a tight hug.

His brother didn’t say much more, but the hug was enough.

“Come on,” Jungkook urged, sliding down from the countertop and nudging Seokjin. “It’s after eleven and I’m hungry. Let’s go get some food.”

“I’m not hungry,” Seokjin said, finishing his tea and taking the mug back to the table. “I have work to do, and I don’t feel like going out.”

Jungkook trailed after him. “So you’re just going to sit around this apartment, feeling sorry for yourself, faking being sick?”

“Go to class,” Seokjin ordered.

“Come out to lunch with me,” Jungkook tossed back. “You look pale, and you’re obviously not really sick, so you need to eat something.”

No, he wasn’t sick, just heartbroken, which felt worse.

“Just come eat with me,” Jungkook said, bouncing a little on his feet nervously. “You need some sun. You need some fresh air. Jin … you need to not be sitting around, waiting for Rap Mon to come back so you can officially declare you’re done.”

He supposed Jungkook was right, but that as what was going to happen, right? He was going to wait for Namjoon to come back, they were going to reaffirm once more that they had vastly different futures in mind, and that would be it. They’d be done.

Seokjin had spent a long time living with Namjoon. He’d spent an eternity learning his ticks and behaviors, and growing accustom to sharing a space, and molding his life to compliment someone else’s. He wasn’t sure he knew how to go back to being just Seokjin.

He didn’t want to.

“You’re going,” Jungkook said, taking Seokjin by the wrist and pulling him away from his tea. “Your work will still be here when you get back, and I’m serious when I say you need a little sun. You look paler than the dead in here.”

He let Jungkook take him just a block down the street from their house to a restaurant they were familiar with, and he even let Jungkook order for him, despite the fact that Seokjin wouldn’t let him pay. And when they settled down to wait for their food to arrive, Seokjin couldn’t help wondering what would happen in the peripheral of his life, when he and Namjoon were well and done.

Aside from Jungkook, would the other members of Bangtan want anything to do with him? He wanted to think they were friends, but they’d been loyal to Namjoon for a long time, and sometimes in breakups, friends were lost.

Would Bangtan still have a presence around the clinic?

Before the food even got there, Seokjin felt a headache building across his forehead.

“Jin,” Jungkook tried. “I’m so sor—”

“Don’t,” Seokjin said. “Just … don’t.”

And to Jungkook’s credit, he didn’t. He worked hard to turn the conversation that came next to more neutral topics like his schoolwork and a new crush he seemed to be harboring on a classmate.

“I thought,” Seokjin said with a laugh that felt closer to the real thing, “you were busy wallowing in agony over the last girl that wouldn’t give you the time of day. You’ve moved on so quickly, little brother. It’s kind of astounding.”

“No, no, you don’t understand,” Jungkook urged. “That old girl was hot and everything, but this new one? She’s cute and funny and talented and doesn’t have a rich boyfriend I have to compete with. She’s been my partner in class a couple of times now, and I think she likes me. I think I’m going to ask her out.”

“Okay,” Seokjin agreed. “Just try and come off as cool for once, okay? And not the nerd you really are.”

“Jin!”

Going to lunch with Jungkook did make him feel better, honestly. There was a residual numbness in him now, and exhaustion that was begging for a nap. But overall, going out with his brother who understood him, and didn’t judge him, and simply cared for him, made a difference.

And it was a good enough feeling, as Jungkook parted ways with him soon enough, to push him through the rest of his paperwork. And then afterwards he climbed back in bed to get a few more hours of sleep.

Or the plan had been for a few more hours. But he must have been more exhausted than he’d thought, because when he woke back up, it was dark in the apartment.

A quick check to his phone showed a series of messages from well-wishers, and some courtesy texts from the clinic about a lack of problems. And then there was a more longwinded message from Jonghyun informing him that Lizzy had yet to find the name of Yebin’s family member, and that he’d gotten an extension to retain custody of Yebin for another day.

Seokjin wandered over to the balcony door in the living room and pushed it open, letting fresh air in. He pushed back the curtains and looked out over the city, wondering what his life would look like in a week … in a day … as soon as Namjoon came back.

He didn’t have to wait long to find out.

Before nine the lock on the front door turned and Seokjin, who’d been sitting on the sofa and enjoying a television show, glanced over to see Namjoon come through.

He looked terrible, and that was only another twist of the knife of guilt in Seokjin’s stomach. Namjoon looked like he hadn’t slept in well over a day. He hadn’t shaved, that was absolutely clear. And even from a distance, he looked ragged and unkept.

And sad. Mostly he looked sad.

“Hi,” Namjoon offered in a scratchy, worn voice.

Feeling detached, Seokjin echoed back, “Hi.”

Namjoon took a tentative stop forward into the apartment and closed the door behind him. Then, with a resolute look on his face, he asked Seokjin, “Can we talk?”

Seokjin turned off the television and wondered if his was how his relationship ended. His gut said yes, and his heart agreed.

“I think we have to,” Seokjin said.

Namjoon’s head dipped, and Seokjin felt him slip through his fingers.

Half an hour later, he’d lost Namjoon completely.

And in that, he lost himself.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

It wasn’t like Seokjin was terrified of Minah, but he was definitely terrified of her.

Especially when she had the look on her face that she currently did.

“You have not,” she said severely, “been following my orders as your doctor.”

Seokjin made to dispute that, but cut off sharply at her glare.

“I’ve … been trying.”

The sternness on her face dropped away, replaced by something more worried, and she said a lot more kindly, “Seokjin, I know doctors make the worst patients but this is no joke. What I’m looking at now is no joke.”

Seokjin glanced over her shoulder to where his scans were lit up on a board in the room. Even if he hadn’t been a doctor, he would have been able to see the obvious difference between his left ventricle and right, in the pictures. Before it has been noticeable to medical personnel, but something easily missed by someone not trained to look for the issue. But now? In only a few short years?

“I can tell you haven’t been cutting back,” she pressed on. “I can tell you’ve been stressing yourself out, and putting a strain on your heart, and likely missing medication. I can tell.”

Seokjin, sitting up on the examination bed, clenched at the edge of it.

It had compounded. That was what he’d wanted to tell her. The stress of his job and the situation with Bangtan had just so easily compounded into a snowball rolling downhill in a blizzard. And yes, he had missed doses of his medication, but never on purpose.

“Don’t even try and defend yourself,” Minah said

So Seokjin didn’t. Instead he looked at the progressing damage to his heart, and felt cold.

“This is much worse than I would have expected for someone your age, Jin.” Minah wandered back to the x-rays and peered at them. Seokjin could see the lines of tension in her shoulders. “It’s much worse than the last time we had a full workup done on you.”

He cleared his throat, mostly to work up some courage, and told her, “I’ve been having incidents more frequently now. More frequently than I’m used to.” There’d been that day in the Noodle House, and the other at the Clinic. But those were only times he’d experienced an unnatural arrythmia to his heart in the company of others. It had happened other times, too, when he’d been alone.

His medication had always done what it was intended to, but even he could admit that the instances that the incidents were occurring, were increasing.

“Are you experiencing swelling?” Minah asked, pivoting back to him. “In any limbs?”

Seokjin shook his head.

“Feeling faint or dizzy? Actually passing out?”

“Only when my heart feels the worst,” Seokjin told her, “I feel dizzy. But it usually passes fast enough.”

She sighed again.

In the air-conditioned room, Seokjin folded his hands into his lap and twisted his fingers nervously. Even if he’d been outside in the terrible heat, he knew he would have been cold. At least in his fingers. It was always hard to get things like his hands and feet warm.

“How’s your breathing?”

“The same as usual,” Seokjin told her honestly, and it was nice to know one thing hadn’t changed. “It always feels like a fight to get enough oxygen, but not enough that I panic.” There was nothing wrong with his lungs, naturally. Just the rate his heart was pumping blood with oxygen to the rest of his body.

Seokjin let himself slide down off the bed, and he walked to her side of the room to stand in front of the scans. “Tell me the truth. How bad is this?”

“Bad,” she said frankly. She crossed her arms over her chest and he could see her eyes dart across the scans. “I should have seen you last month. Or the month before. There’s no excuse for this.”

“You had a family emergency, two months ago,” Seokjin told her. She hadn’t given him a lot of details, but he knew her sister had been in a terrible car accident, and was still in the hospital recovering. With both of Minah’s parents having passed on, and her sister being her only family, Seokjin would have been upset if she hadn’t put her last remaining family member first. “And then you had the conference last month.”

Seokjin felt like everything was his fault. The signs that things were getting worse had been staring him in the face for a good deal of time. But he’d wanted to wait for Minah, because he trusted her, and liked her, and she was his doctor. So instead of seeing a temporary cardiologist, he’d waited.

Maybe a couple of months wouldn’t have made such a difference at any other point in his life, but his scans hadn’t looked like they did now, so long ago.

And with a disease that progressed like his did, staying on top of it was everything.

“I know I’ve missed some doses of my medication,” Seokjin openly admitted. “But progression like this can’t be just from that.”

“It’s not,” Minah said, head turning to look him in the eyes. “This is a combination of things happening all at once. But I’d definitely say the beta blocker you’re taking right now is borderline ineffective. And the antiarrhythmic? Not much better.”

Seokjin rattled off, “I’m currently taking Sotalol and Amiodrone.” He took peripheral medication for other reasons, but those two pills were mostly responsible for slowing down the progress of his condition. Though if they seemed to be failing him …

“I know,” she said in a distracted way that indicated she was thinking, and he wasn’t surprised she had his medication memorized. She had a lot of patients, but things were special between them, and not just because of their history.

“So,” Seokjin tried to prompt, “should we switch medications? Try something new?” He wobbled his way back to the examination table, and then carefully got back on it.

Minah spun back to him, a decisive look on her face. “Jin, when I took on your case several years ago and became your cardiologist, we went over what you preferred for treatment, what you were comfortable with, and what was realistic for your situation. We agreed at the time that medication was our best bet, and that if you were responsive, it could be a viable option for you.”

Seokjin didn’t like where the conversation seemed to be going.

“Minah,” he warned.

“We can switch you to a different medication,” she told him, “like the last time we saw some increased thinning to your right ventricle. But Jin, the truth is staring us in the face right now. This isn’t the first time medication you’ve been taking has become ineffective, and there are only so many options out there for you. You will run out eventually.”

Seokjin tried to swallow past the lump in his throat as he asked, “So what are you saying? You want me to consider a catheter ablation?”

“It is an option.”

“No,” Seokjin said roughly. “I can’t believe you’re even bringing it up.”

“I’m bringing it up because I’m your doctor,” she said, flicking him on the ear. He winced, but was thankful for the sudden release of pressure between them. “It’s my responsibility to give you all your options and talk them through with you. And no, while it is an option, I don’t recommend it, even if it has an impressive success rate.”

The reason Seokjin wasn’t considering it, despite the high-end ninety percent success rate, was because he was thinking long term with his condition, and not short term. A condition like his, coupled with a procedure like that, meant a recurrence was almost guaranteed, and when that happened, it brought with it new arrhythmogenic foci.

To Seokjin, it brought with it a death sentence.

“Look,” Minah said, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “I’m going to tell you something honestly, and I don’t want you to have some kneejerk reaction. Not like you’ve had in the past.”

“Kneejerk?” Seokjin asked. He didn’t think that was like him at all.

Minah’s features went tight for a minute, and he was clearly psyching herself up to say something, and then finally got out, “I want you to add yourself to the registry list. I want you to give me permission to write the recommendation to get you on that list.”

“No.” Seokjin threw the word at her like acid. “Absolutely not.”

“Be reasonable,” she snapped right back, not budging an inch. “This is something realistic and applicable to you, Jin. Not today, not with the left ventricle still in an okay place—though you know it’s starting to show strain. But we need to be prepared for what will happen one day. One day you may experience bi-ventricle failure, and if you do, a transplant is the only thing that’s going to save your life.”

A heart transplant.

That was what she wanted him to do. She wanted him to put himself into the donor registry in case the worst happened.

“Minah,” he strained to get out. “I am not going to take a heart away from someone who needs it more than me. It’s impossibly hard to get a donor heart as it is, and even then, the body has a significant chance of rejecting the donor organ. I’m not going to be that person, with a heart that’ll do for right now, even if he needs a little extra care, who takes it away from someone who needs it more.”

She told him back, “And you need to take into consideration that when you progress to the point that you will need that heart, if it comes to it, if you’re not already on that list, you are dead. And look at me now. Look at my face. Does this look like the person who is willing to let that happen?”

“No,” Seokjin said again, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’ll get to that point.”

“Stop living ignorantly,” Minah said harshly. “We didn’t think your heart would degrade this quickly. We didn’t think your ventricle would thin so quickly. We didn’t think your medication would become only partially or slightly effective. There are a lot of things we haven’t accounted for. But they’re happening anyway.”

But admitting that he might need a heart transplant, felt like admitting defeat. It felt like admitting that a condition he had worked his entire life not to beat him down, was winning. What was the point of fighting so hard if he had to give up ultimately in the end?

Seokjin told her, “My mother’s heart never degraded this fast. I don’t understand why mine is.”

“Your mother,” Minah said reverently, and Seokjin knew she was picturing the woman and the memories she had of her, “is not you. She didn’t have the same lifestyle as you. You know this condition has a lot of things that factor into it. You pushed yourself hard through medical school, and the things have happened to you over the past year have been traumatic, to say the least. I’m not saying any of this is your fault. I am saying that if we get to the point where you suffer bi-ventricular failure, I want you to still have options.”

He just felt so guilty at the idea of taking an available heart from anyone who needed it. Organ donor wait lists tended to be …unfathomably long. Unfairly long. Statistically, more people died on wait lists, than ever received donor organs.

“Minah.”

She put a firm hand on his knee and squeezed hard. “I know what kind of person you are, Jin, so you’d never say it. And this probably makes me a terrible person for being willing to say it. But the truth is, you deserve a new heart more than almost anyone else who’ll be on the list.”

“That’s not true,” Seokjin vowed. “No one is more important than anyone else.”

“Logically,” she rushed to add. “Realistically. Jin. Think about it. I don’t mean in a philosophical way about the equality of all life. I mean from an impartial point of view. You’re a doctor. You care for, treat, and save thousands of people a year. You’re someone important. You contribute to society in an extremely impactful way. You getting a new heart, if you need it, means you can continue to impact the community in a way that ripples out positively. Think of the people you’ve helped since you became a doctor. How many of them went on to help others or do something that mattered?”

Seokjin pointed out, “The donor list won’t distinguish who deserves a heart and who doesn’t, or who deserves it more—and I still stand by the fact that no one has that right.”

“I know.” Minah insisted. “But I’m standing here telling you that you’re doing a disservice to all the people you haven’t helped yet, if you don’t make every conceivable effort in the world, to save your own life.”

Seokjin couldn’t shake the guilt, but he also thought about his clinic, and his patients, and Jungkook. He thought about all he’d be leaving behind, and everything that mattered to him. He thought about …about Namjoon.

He thought about everything worth fighting to live for.

“Alright,” he finally told her. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Good.” Minah gave a sharp nod. “But that’s years from now, Seokjin. God, with the donor wait list, it’s maybe never. Right now, I think we need to take action that we can control, predict, and implement immediately.”

“New medication?”

Minah corrected, “I think it’s time for an ICD.”

“You can’t be serious,” Seokjin deadpanned. “Minah, you can’t possibly be serious.”

“I don’t see why you’re saying that.” She gave him a challenging look. “Face it, Jin, your heart is getting harder and harder to control. You’re having more frequent episodes of unnatural arrhythmia. Your right ventricle is in a worst shape than it should be. Your chances of suffering heart failure are growing exponentially every day. So I’m asking you, do you want a pacemaker, or do you want your boyfriend to stumble across your body one day?”

Feeling flush with a tingling cold, Seokjin truly didn’t think that was likely to happen anytime soon.

Instead he tried to focus on all of the literature he’d ever read about ICDs, or implantable cardioverter-defibrillators. Minah definitely knew far, far more about them, but Seokjin knew enough.

He certainly knew enough to say, “And what happens if you perforate the ventricle while you’re implanting it, and I develop pericardial tamponade?”

Again, Minah flicked at him, but this time at his forehead, and much harder than before. She gave him an incredulous expression and said, “What kind of cardiologist do you think I am?”

“A good one,” Seokjin insisted, rubbing his sore forehead.

“Because of that risk,” Minah said, “and because I like you and actually want you to live, the preferred method during surgery to place the ICD on the ventricular septum. Sometimes this is impossible, but it’s always the goal. And I’ve placed hundreds of ICDs in my life, with almost all of the surgeries going according to plan.”

“Oh, good,” Seokjin said faintly.

Sounding more like a doctor now than a friend, Minah’s heels clacked on the floor as she walked over to the x-rays, turned the board off, and said, “The facts are that given the development of your condition, I’m recommending this to you as your cardiologist. Yes, the surgery has its inherent risks, but in my opinion, the benefits greatly outweigh the negatives. Existing batteries last upwards of ten years in ICDs, current devices are so advanced they can detect minor issues and deal with them long before they even become noticeable to you, and most importantly, this is a device that will save your life, Seokjin, if you experience sudden cardiac arrest. Or at the least it’ll contribute greatly in keeping you alive long enough for someone to save you.”

Maybe everything just seemed a sore subject to Seokjin because he’d talked himself into believing that he could manage everything by simply taking a couple of pills and telling himself he was fine. He’d spent forever believing that all he needed was the path of least resistance, and his life would be his.

“Jin?” Minah asked. “I know I just dropped a lot on you. What are you thinking?”

He was thinking he wanted to live. He wanted his best chance at life, too.

Trying not to stumble over his words, he asked, “What’s the procedure look like in terms of downtime?”

Professionally, Minah said, “I’d do the surgery in a couple of hours, and you’d need to stay in the hospital for a day afterwards. About six weeks after, you won’t even feel a twinge. You could probably go back to work within a couple of weeks.”

“A couple!”

“Oh no,” Minah told him dramatically, certainly back to sounding like his friend and not his doctor, “you’d have to miss two weeks of working ten hours shifts and pretending like you’re the only capable doctor on the planet? What a travesty!”

“Two weeks is a long time,” Seokjin grumbled He saw a lot of patients in two weeks.

“For you, I guess.” She laughed a little. “But think of how much your quality of life will improve after this? You won’t have to worry that you’re going to suddenly experience debilitating symptoms of your diagnosis. Isn’t that worth the tradeoff?”

Ultimately, Seokjin did think so.

“Then we should book the surgery?” Seokjin asked.

Minah’s computer was across the room, but she made a beeline for it as soon as Seokjin agreed. “Let me see what I have available, okay? It’s not going to be anything super soon. And I like you a lot, but this isn’t a medical emergency, so I can’t just bump someone else.”

“Of course.” And frankly he was a lot more comforted by the idea that he might have time to get used to the idea of the surgery.

“How about August first?”

Two months. That gave him two months to brace for a two week down period, and psychologically prepare himself of living with a machine in him that would take control of his heart when needed.

Two months was enough.

“Book it,” Seokjin said before he could back out. “Do it.”

And just like that, Seokjin almost felt like he was getting a new lease on life.

“You know,” Minah said after their business was conducted and she was walking him from the examination room to the waiting room, “I haven’t forgotten about my promise to you and that clinic of yours.”

Seokjin fussed with his sleeve cuffs trying to get them back in the right spot. “What promise?” he asked absently.

She reminded, “I did promise you that I was going to put in some volunteer work at that clinic of yours.  But then my schedule got packed and I just forgot.”

“You going somewhere with this?” Seokjin teased, “The clinic is always willing to take gracious monetary donations from individuals who are too busy to volunteer their time.”

Minah gave a distinctly unladylike snort. “How much money do you think I have? Medical school didn’t pay for itself.”

“Medical school,” Seokjin pointed out, “Was seven years ago for you.”

She held them up at the door that would take Seokjin out into the waiting room, and then to the bank of elevators he needed to use to get down to the ground floor.

“I’m saying,” she clarified. “I may not be able to pull the full two weeks you’re down, but I could cover some days at that clinic of yours.”

“Really?”

Minah grinned. “Really. We’ll get together and discuss it soon. Maybe over drinks? Go have a good day, Jin.”

“You promised me dinner a while ago,” Seokjin pointed out. “A man never forgets!”

She pointed out, “Not one with your stomach capacity.”

“Dinner,” he repeated. “We haven’t gone out together in a long time. I’ll feel better about going under your knife if I let you buy me a steak.”

“You sound like your brother,” she pointed out, and then opened the door for him and waved him through.

Seokjin was a little surprised to find Jimin stretched out in the waiting room, spread across two chairs and looking utterly bored.

“This is not what I expected,” Seokjin said, watching Jimin straighten up a little. “What are you doing here?”

Jimin gave a casual shrug that really was anything but. “I had some time to burn.”

“Okay,” Seokjin edged out. “But that doesn’t answer my question as to why you’re here.” His eyes narrowed “Are you following me again?”

“Please,” Jimin chortled. “Give me some credit.”

“Then explain.” Seokjin started off towards the elevators, and he wasn’t really surprised to see Jimin following at him at a leisurely pace.

Jimin cut ahead of him, actually, the moment he reached the elevators, so he could jab the button to call for the lift.

“Jimin,” Seokjin asked, now more interested any anything else. “How did you know I’d be here today?”

Simply, while they waited in relative privacy for the elevator to arrive, Jimin said, “You had your brother drop you off here this morning.”

That still didn’t explain much. “Yeah? Maybe I came today to see a couple of friends.”

“No,” Jimin drawled out. “You came for an appointment. Because you have them basically every month like clockwork, you always schedule them in the morning, and you never drive yourself if you can manage it.”

There seemed no point in lying, so Seokjin confirmed, “I had an appointment today. And I’m on my way to catch the bus back now.”

He’d almost said back home. He’d almost made that mistake.

“I’m here to take you back.” Jimin said it like Seokjin ought to have expected something of that nature. “Why’re you going it alone today?”

“I don’t need you to take me back,” Seokjin said, but he’d be a liar if he couldn’t admit that it was nice to have someone waiting for him. He never wanted to feel like a burden to Jungkook, so he often left his brother out of any of the matters he needed to take care of at the hospital. “I can catch the bus.”

“I know you can,” Jimin said simply, and that seemed to be that.

They were down in the parking lot, Jimin leading Seokjin towards his bike, when Seokjin finally said, “Jungkook had class today. That’s why he wasn’t with me.” That’s why he had been alone.

“That doesn’t explain why you didn’t drive yourself.” Jimin unhooked the spare helmet from the back of his bike and tossed it to him. “You have that fancy car that most people would kill just to sit in.

“It’s in case,’ Seokjin said. “It’s a safety thing. When I go in for my appointments, I never know if it’s going to be an in and out kind of situation, or if something might happen and I may not be able to drive myself home.” There’d been more than once occasion when Minah hadn’t liked the rhythm of his heart and had put him under to get it settled back at the right tempo. He couldn’t drive afterwards, typically. So that meant having someone with him who could, or taking public transportation.

Jimin gave him a side-eyed look. “And everything went fine in there?”

Seokjin didn’t say that he’d agreed to surgery and an ICD. That wasn’t something he wanted to worry anyone about. Instead he only nodded.

“Good,” Jimin said. He hopped onto his bike and turned it on, gesturing for Seokjin to get on as well.

“I should take the bus,” Seokjin said, his words muffled by the padding in the helmet. “I hate this.” But suddenly he wondered again who the other person on the back of the bike had been the last time Seokjin had seen Jimin driving in the company of someone else. He wondered who else had worn the helmet.

“Stop complaining,” Jimin said, revving the engine. “You do that and I’ll consider not taking the corners too sharply. Deal?”

The threat was hollow at best, but Seokjin let himself go quiet, and tried to breathe his way evenly though the unease that the motorcycle ride always caused him.

They got to Jimin and Jungkook’s apartment fast enough, and when Seokjin got off the motorcycle, the apartment looked like …like the last place on earth he should have been going to.

“You know,” Jimin said from next to him, a tint of anger in his voice, “even if you guys are done or whatever, he should have been there.”

The he in question was definitely undisputed, and neither was the message being sent.

And despite the distance between them, and what had happened, Seokjin felt defensive of Namjoon. He still felt like he needed to say, “Don’t blame him. He didn’t even know. He couldn’t have.”

Three days after the inevitable end to their relationship, and talking about Namjoon still felt like a fresh wound.

“You didn’t tell him?” Jimin asked in disbelief.

“No,” Seokjin said. “I didn’t.” Namjoon had other things to worry about now. Seokjin was one less thing he should have had on his mind.

Jimin scoffed a little in disbelief. “You guys are idiots.”

“And you don’t have a clue what you’re talking about,” Seokjin said back harshly. No one knew the details of the disagreement that had destroyed their relationship. No one truly knew, and Seokjin wanted to keep it that way. The failure of the best relationship he’d ever had, was still stinging.

“I know that I’ve never seen two people so in love with each other,” Jimin pointed out. “I know the two of you beat the odds in a lot of ways. I’m not trying to get sentimental or anything over here, and considering our history you know what it means that I’m saying this, but that relationship? You should have fought for that.”

Crueler than he needed to be, and in a way that immediately sparked regret, Seokjin said, “Like you did?”

He could see the way Jimin physically shut down in front of him. They were standing to the side of the road, out in the open, and Seokjin felt like he’d just destroyed someone he cared deeply for.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled out.

“Don’t be,” Jimin replied flatly. “You said what you meant.”

Jimin took off towards his apartment, and Seokjin watched him go, feeling like garbage.

It took Seokjin the better part of ten minutes to work up the nerve to follow Jimin in to the apartment. Then he leaned back against the front door, and told Jimin who was sitting in the living room, ignoring him, “I am sorry. Truly. That was cruel and unnecessary. I’m just … there’s no excuse. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I swear to you. I didn’t.”

Jimin glanced over at him a few seconds later. “Your brother won’t ask for details, because he’s too nice like that when it comes to you, but seriously, what happened?”

Seokjin hesitated for a moment, but then he let himself push forward into the apartment.

Into the apartment he’d spent the last couple night sleeping in, with his suitcase tucked into Jungkook’s closet.

“You should stay,” Namjoon had told him, after Seokjin had burst into tears at the end of their relationship and after Namjoon had punched a hole into the wall before disappearing off to the bathroom for fifteen minutes. Seokjin had definitely heard the sound of crying coming from behind its door. But eventually Namjoon had come back, with red eyes and wrapped knuckles, and said, “You should keep the apartment.”

“No,” he’d replied, “you should. Bangtan treats this place like a base of operations some days. And you’re comfortable here.”

“You’re comfortable here, too,” Namjoon had argued back. “Please, Jin.”

“I can’t.” Not because he didn’t want to. He loved the apartment. He loved the full kitchen in it, and the balcony that overlooked the city, and the location. “I need … I need to be some place that doesn’t remind me of the fantasy I’d built up in his mind.” The apartment just reminded him too much of what he couldn’t have anymore. Or maybe never had in the first place.

“Jin?”

Seokjin broke away from his thoughts and told Jimin, “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Jimin paused for a moment, then said, “Tough shit.”

“Excuse me?” Seokjin balked.

“We’re friends, aren’t we?” Jimin asked bluntly. Before Seokjin could answer, Jimin said, “Hell, you’re the one always sprouting off about love and family. So just because mom and dad got divorced, doesn’t mean you stop being family, right?”

In a quiet way, Seokjin said, “I hope not.”

Jimin looked absolutely proud of himself as he said, “Then this is what family does. You taught me that.  Even when the subject is shitty, or you don’t want to, you talk about it anyway. Family communicates.”

“That’s what our problem was,” Seokjin said, moving slowly to sit on the edge of the sofa in the room. “Namjoon and I, I mean. I made some assumptions, but we weren’t really communicating.”

“Assumptions about what?”

“Personal business.” He held for a moment after the word, and finally fessed up, “About a family. I want one. Namjoon doesn’t.”

“He doesn’t?” Jimin looked baffled. “No way.”

“Some people don’t,” Seokjin reasoned. “There’s nothing wrong with not wanting kids. There’s nothing wrong with wanting or not wanting anything. But this is a make or break kind of subject for me, and no matter how much I love Namjoon, I need him to be in agreement with me on it. And since he isn’t, I have to let him go.”

It just felt wrong. It felt so wrong. And Seokjin couldn’t explain why it felt wrong. But his heart was telling him letting go of Namjoon was the biggest mistake he was ever going to make in his life.

“I don’t believe it,” Jimin told him.

“It’s my fault. I should have asked a lot sooner. The moment I realized he was the one, I should have asked the really important questions.”

“No. Seriously.” Jimin stood, and it was a little awkward to have the normally shorter male suddenly towering over him. “Jin. Seriously. That doesn’t make sense.”

Seokjin wished so.

Jimin continued on, “Because he was talking about kids with you in December. Right before your dad died.”

Seokjin frowned so hard he felt the creases into his skin. “What?”

Jimin nodded emphatically. “Right around the time your dad was going, we all went out and got blitzed. He started talking about how important family is, and what you’d both lost, and how he definitely wanted a big family with you one day.”

“He won’t consider them now,” Seokjin said shakily.

“Did he say specifically he didn’t want them—kids? Or did he just say he wouldn’t have them?”

The latter. It was definitely the latter.

“He thinks it’s too dangerous,” Seokjin told Jimin. “He’s terrified about what nearly happened to me, happening in some way to a child we have. And I understand that. I know what kind of stress he’s under every day to keep people safe, and I don’t envy him. But shutting himself away from something as amazing as a family, because he’s afraid?”

Jimin scratched his fingers through his hair. “This is all Infinite’s fucking fault. Hanging on by their claws. Not knowing when to call it quits after they’ve been beaten down.”

“You think Namjoon would be singing a different song about our future, if the threat of Infinite wasn’t there?”

“Can’t say for sure,” Jimin said, “but maybe. He’s a complicated guy sometimes. Who knows what’s going through his mind. I just know the universe doesn’t seem right with the two of you not off being sickeningly sweet together.”

It occurred to Seokjin that moment that he was having a heart to heart with Jimin about his relationship with Namjoon, and none of it felt awkward.

“You love him?” Jimin asked suddenly. “You’re still in love with him?”

“I am.” Seokjin nodded. “We didn’t break up because of a lack of love.”

“Then you gotta figure out what’s going on,” Jimin urged. “Because that true love stuff you got going on with him? That’s the real deal, and that’s something worth fighting for.”

A gentle smile pulled at Seokjin’s mouth and he said, “For not having a lot of experience with this sort of thing, you’re really very good.”

“I’ll write a book,” Jimin snorted out. But then he sobered and said, “I would have fought for you, Jin. You know, back then? If I’d had any kind of chance, or you’d returned any of my feelings, I would have fought for you. But unrequited love isn’t worth fighting for, so I didn’t. That’s the difference here. You see it, right?”

Seokjin stood suddenly and pulled Jimin into a tight hug, blinking back tears.

“I did not say we could hug!” Jimin protested. “I don’t do hugs!”

“Deal with it,” Seokjin laughed out, hugging him tighter.

When things calmed down a little, Jimin said, “I’ve gotta go take care of some business, but if you want, I’ll run you by your clinic. It’s where you’ve got your car parked, right?”

“That would be good,” Seokjin said with some relief. “I’m back sooner from the cardiologist than I planned for, so I can get some extra work in.”

“You’re a robot, aren’t you?” Jimin asked plainly. “No one works as much as you, or enjoys it like you do.”

Seokjin only rolled his eyes. “When you find something you like, work doesn’t feel like work.”

But it would be nice to pick his car up. He’d left it in the carpark overnight. And while it was perfectly safe there, he was always irrationally overprotective of the car. He was antsy to get back behind the wheel, especially since his doctor’s appointment had gone well.

Seokjin had gathered up all of his work things in just a couple of minutes, and was fretting about holding onto everything on the back of Jimin’s bike, when Jimin called out across the living room to him, “You should go home tonight.”

Seokjin looked up from where he’d been kneeling on the floor, stuffing the last of his things into his work bag. “Home?”

Jimin shrugged. “I guess it’s nice having you here, even if all you do is nag all day long for us to clean up after ourselves and brush our teeth, but hey, you’re a really good cook and if I have a medical emergency, I know I’ll probably live with you hanging around here. But I’m serious. You shouldn’t be throwing in the towel here.”

Seokjin stared at him.

“You’re gonna give me that look?” Jimin asked hotly. “Look, you need to go home tonight, to the person you love, and the person you’re going to have a future with. And you need to sit down with him and communicate with him—make him communicate with you.”

“We tried,” Seokjin defended.

“Then try again.” Jimin added, “Because five months ago that guy wanted kids with you. Five months ago he was telling us what an awesome dad you’d be, and I don’t think in five months he suddenly stopped wanting kids. I think, if you want my honest opinion, he’s just scared.”

“Scared?” Seokjin asked.

Jimin winced a little and said, “You can’t tell him I told you this at all, okay? You have to swear on your life.”

Dread rose in Seokjin. “Tell me what?”

“Just swear it.”

“Okay,” Seokjin said nervously. “I swear. Now tell me.”

Jimin trailed over to him, and despite the fact that they were alone, Jimin was quiet when he said, “We get like dozens of threats against you a week. Sometimes they’re just little reminders from other gangs that they know you exist, in case Rap Mon wants to stir things up, and some of them have definitely been from what’s left of Infinite, but a lot of them are anonymous. We’re not really capable of hiding behind our names now, and you’re more connected to us than ever. So rumors float around, and threats, and they’re meant for you. They’ve kind of exploded in frequency lately, too.”

“Oh,” Seokjin breathed out.

“He doesn’t tell you for a reason,” Jimin said. “But it’s bad sometimes, and it’s not just the gang members out there making the threats. So what if your boyfriend took one look at the danger getting thrown your way, and that’s why he changed his mind.”

Namjoon was, ultimately, self-sacrificing. And Seokjin could easily see him giving up something he loved to keep it from being destroyed, or worse.

Namjoon had said, when they’d talked about it, that it would be irresponsible to have children. He hadn’t said he was afraid to, but that it would be too dangerous. But the important thing, if Jimin was to be believed, was that Namjoon hadn’t started out feeling that way. And that meant Seokjin maybe had a chance of changing his mind.

Maybe he had given up too easily. Maybe he’d let Namjoon push him away.

“You can keep sleeping on our sofa if you want,” Jimin offered. “Or you can go home—to your actual home tonight after you get off of work.”

Slowly, Seokjin said, “You really are too good.”

Warily, Jimin asked, “Are you going to hug me again?”

“No,” Seokjin laughed out. “I promise. Not unless you want me to.”

“No to the hugging,” Jimin said with a scrunched-up face. “But you can definitely do something about your boyfriend tonight. He’s been walking around like Atlas, moping and looking like he got sucker punched, and even Suga’s getting irritated with him now—and it’s only been a couple of a days.”

Surprised, Seokjin asked, “Atlas?”

“I read, okay!” Jimin snapped defensively.

“I know you do,” Seokjin said as they exited the apartment. “Despite what you seem to want people to think.”

“I’m smart,” Jimin said in a muffled way once his helmet was on and he was handing Seokjin his.

“I know, I know,” Seokjin laughed out. “I just have one question for you.”

“What?” Jimin got the bike going and rumbling under them.

Seokjin put his own helmet on, wrapped his arms around Jimin and asked, “Why does your spare helmet smell like Jimmy Choo?”

Jimin arched towards him. “Who the hell is Jimmy Choo?”

Seokjin smirked underneath the helmet. “He’s a designer. And he makes a fragrance. Your helmet smells like it. Jungkook used to wear it about a year ago before he realized he was allergic to an ingredient in the cologne. That’s why I know what the smell is.  Who do you know that would wear such an expensive scent? It’s extremely pricey.”

Jimin’s body tensed up and he revved the engine, practically shouting, “Sorry, can’t hear you. We’re going now!”

“Mm-hm,” Seokjin hummed. “How convenient.”

Jimin jetted off towards the clinic, and Seokjin thought he was just too endearing for his own good.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

“So that’s her, huh?” Seokjin asked. He glanced from the clinic’s less busy than average waiting room, to where Jonghyun was standing just a few paces away from him. Seokjin couldn’t explain why they had lighter than average loads some days. Appointments were almost always booked through no matter what, but walk-ins? On some days, fewer people either had medical issues, or were willing to come in for them. Today was one of those days, and it was actually a good thing.

Because this was the day Jonghyun had to hand Yebin over to her only located family member, and Seokjin didn’t know how it was going to go down.

After all, Jonghyun and Kibum had been caring for Yebin for days now. Almost four full days. And maybe Seokjin had been a little worried in the beginning that Yebin might be too much of a handful, especially since she was the kind of baby who cried just for attention. But only good had come from the four day arrangement.

Seokjin had seen with his own eyes the way Yebin had transformed Jonghyun, and made him a little softer, and a lot happier. In only four days, Seokjin thought she’d proven to Jonghyun that he was ready to be a father, and could handle that kind of task.

Seokjin just worried now that Jonghyun had fallen a little too in love with Yebin. He’d done his best to remind Jonghyun constantly that he’d have to give her up sooner, rather than later, but the attachment had been so obvious.

And now that time had come. Now Seokjin was standing next to Jonghyun, watching the near empty waiting room, looking at Yebin’s social worker talking to the cousin that was supposed to take her in only a few moments.

Whatever the social working was saying to her was serious enough that her face was furrowed almost worriedly, and it did a lot to make Yebin’s mother’s cousin look a lot older than she was.

As if on cue, Jonghyun said, “Yeah, that’s her. She’s practically a child.”

If Seokjin had to guess, he’d say she couldn’t be more than in her early twenties. She looked too fresh faced and young to be more than that. She looked like she should have been going to college, or drinking all night long with her friends, or spending her paychecks wholly on herself and rightfully so at her age. She didn’t look like someone who was ready to be a mother, for all intents and purposes.

“Did Yebin’s social worker tell you much about her?” Seokjin asked, looking away from the pair in the waiting room and to Jonghyun who was tense in a worrisome way.

Jonghyun gave a short nod. “I know her name. I know she lives about an hour outside of Seoul. I know she’s twenty-four.”

Twenty-four. Too young to be saddled with a baby.

Jonghyun added, “She’s a cosmetologist.”

“Really?” Seokjin’s eyebrows rose.

Jonghyun scoffed. “I’m supposed to believe that she’s just going to drop everything for Yebin?” There was something territorial in Jonghyun’s voice. Something too aggressive. “She’s just going to put it all aside for a baby? She’s a baby.”

Gently, Seokjin said, “I think twenty-four is definitely too young for a baby. Your twenties should be a selfish time for yourself. But having a baby and career isn’t an impossible thing, Jonghyun. Don’t say otherwise, because you know plenty of people who balance both things, and they can do it well if they put themselves to it.”

“I know,” Jonghyun said gruffly. “But I guarantee you that before any of this happened she spent most of her day hanging out with her friends, or going to work and hanging out with the people there, and then partying or drinking afterwards. Tell me that’s not what people her age do.”

“That’s not something we did,” Seokjin pointed out.

“Because we chose fields that essentially demanded all of our time and attention. This isn’t me sitting over here saying that being a doctor is better than being a cosmetologist. That would be shitty of me to say, and not true. What I am saying is that people who choose fields like ours are willing to give up certain things, like huge social lives, because we have to in order to achieve our goals. She didn’t have to give up friends and a social life to have the career she does, so she doesn’t know what it’s like. She’s about to be dropped into icy water, and I promise you, she doesn’t know how to swim in that.”

Seokjin looked behind Jonghyun to where the bathroom was down the hall. The very bathroom that Yebin’s mother had said she was going to, and had never come back from. Maybe she’d never gone there in the first place. But Kibum was back there now, changing Yebin’s daiper, or likely trying to draw out every second he could with her.

Tragically, Seokjin thought ultimately Kibum was more attached to Yebin that Jonghyun was. Jonghyun had to come to work every day, and for long periods of time. And so it was Kibum who’d been caring for Yebin for most of the day. He’d been feeding her, and changing her diaper, and playing with her.

Nearly every day Kibum had come by the clinic, too, pushing Yebin in a stroller that he’d probably dropped a lot of money on by the looks of it, and he’d looked delighted to surprise Jonghyun with a visit by her.

Jonghyun had said that he and Kibum were seriously thinking about their future, and a family. This, likely, was sealing the deal.

“She’ll tread water,” Seokjin said, trying to sooth Jonghyun a little. “Sure, she’s a little young, but we have to give her the benefit of the doubt, right? She’s Yebin’s family, and the social worker wouldn’t be letting her walk out of here with Yebin, if she wasn’t fit to.”

Jonghyun seemed to be trying to calm himself as he said, “She makes decent money, and she’s in a steady profession. She has her own apartment. She doesn’t have any red flags in her past. Shit, Jin, she’s never so much as had a speeding ticket before. This girl is squeaky clean.”

She was just so young. Seokjin couldn’t get past how young she was. Twenty-four was a selfish age. It was supposed to be. It was supposed to be an age where you tried to figure out who you wanted to be, and what you wanted to do, and you indulged in yourself before inevitable responsibilities came along. Asking a single twenty-four year old to take on a baby, was a commitment that Seokjin thought was momentous.

“And she agreed,” Seokjin said, meeting Jonghyun’s gaze. “She agreed to take Yebin before she came all the way out here. She knows what she’s getting into. Or at least she thinks she does.”

“Hmm,” Jonghyun hummed out quietly.

Curious, Seokjin asked, “Has there been any word on Yebin’s mother?”

“No,” Jonghyun said right away. “I guess the police are looking for her, but when she left here without Yebin, she didn’t go back to her home. Or at least she didn’t stay there. She hasn’t been to her job since she left, and neighbors say they haven’t seen her, either. She just …up and vanished, or something. I don’t know. But it doesn’t look like she’s coming back anytime soon, and even if she did, they wouldn’t give her Yebin.”

“Is that her?”

Echoing Seokjin’s own words from earlier, Seokjin turned to see Kibum coming up on his right, Yebin balanced easily in his arms. She looked perfectly satisfied to be there, but leaned towards Jonghyun when he came into her line of sight.

“You are not allowed to play favorites,” Kibum admonished, but handed her over to Jonghyun when she made a fussy sound. “I’m the one changing your diaper. You better remember that.”

Yebin patted at Jonghyun in a distracted way as he said, “I’ve changed her diapers too, you know. Don’t act like I haven’t paid my dues.”

Kibum challenged, “She puked on me yesterday. All over me. She ruined my Tom Ford jacket.”

“That jacket was ugly,” Jonghyun said in a teasing way. “As far as I’m concerned, Yebin did you a favor.”

Kibum made a ghastly sound. “That jacket cost over a thousand dollars American.”

“And you definitely didn’t pay for it. Come on, fess up, they paid you to wear it, didn’t they?”

Kibum went a little red and Jonghyun, who was not one for overt displays of affection, even with Kibum, leaned over to kiss the edge of his mouth.

“Also,” Jonghyun added, “She peed on me. My pee beats your vomit any day of the week.”

Kibum’s eyes narrowed. “No way. My property damage beats your humiliation easily.”

Yebin began pulling at the lapel on Jonghyun’s jacket in a fascinated way as Jonghyun argued, “Your property damage doesn’t count because you didn’t pay for said property.”

“Guys, guys,” Seokjin broke in with a laugh.  “Listen to what you’re fighting over.” Was this how it was with them all the time when they were home alone?

It was kind of charming, actually.

Indignantly Kibum crossed his arms.

Jonghyun said smugly, “Fine, we’ll drop the matter. But I’m right and you know it.”

Kibum looked like he was going to respond, but Seokjin cut in, gesturing, “It looks like it’s time.”

Across the way the social worker was headed in their direction, while the other woman sat nervously in the waiting room.

Quietly, at a near whisper, Kibum said, “I’m not ready.”

Seokjin could see the way Jonghyun braced Yebin up against his body with one arm so he could reach back and squeeze Kibum’s hand.

Seokjin waved at Joy near the front to let Yebin’s social worker back to them, and then asked the pair standing next to him, “Do you want me to do this? I can do this for you.” He was attached to Yebin himself, but less so than Jonghyun or Kibum at that point. This was something he could do for his friends.

Ghostly pale, Kibum admitted, “I can’t do this.”

The social worker approached them, giving them encouraging smiles as she said, “I’ve spoken with Ms. Byun and she’s ready and willing to take Yebin now.”

Jonghyun let go of Kibum’s hand, and with a hardened look on his face, said, “I can do this.” He turned to Kibum. “I’ll do it, okay? I can do this.”

Seokjin thought Kibum would have given anything in that moment, to run out the back door with Yebin and never look back.

“Okay,” Kibum breathed out. “Okay.”

Jonghyun pivoted back to Yebin’s social worker and asked, “You told her everything she needs to know? You told her Yebin’s a little fickle? And sometimes if she’s crying she doesn’t actually need anything—she’s just testing the waters? She knows that Yebin is going to scream bloody murder and she can’t just get fed up with the sound? She knows that—”

“She knows,” the woman interrupted kindly, and this definitely didn’t seem like her first rodeo. “It’s going to be okay, Jonghyun. I promise. Now, let’s go introduce Yebin to her.”

Seokjin watched quietly as Jonghyun headed out into the waiting room with Yebin to make the transfer.

“This is shit,” Kibum said suddenly.

“You okay?” Seokjin watched Kibum’s face carefully. “It’s okay not to be.”

“I’m not okay,” Kibum said angrily, watching Jonghyun and not looking at Seokjin in the least bit. “Of course I’m not okay. I’m watching the person I love have his heart broken. And I’m fucking mad about it.”

In the waiting room a piercing scream echoed, carrying back to them in a second, and Seokjin turned just in time to see Yebin being handed over to the woman. Yebin was shrieking and twisting, trying to lunge back at Jonghyun even as he held her away from him.

The woman, to her credit, fumbled to catch Yebin before getting a more secure hold on her. Though that didn’t do anything to quell the fuss Yebin was making.

And without looking back at the scene unfolding, Jonghyun was striding away from them. He pushed back into the employee area without so much as a word to Joy or Raina who were watching with anxious eyes, and then right past Seokjin and even Kibum, on his way back to his office. He entered the room and closed the door firmly behind him.

By then Seokjin could see Yebin’s mother’s cousin, arms full of a squirming, fussing, fighting Yebin, on her way out the front door of the clinic. And away from Jonghyun and Kibum.

“It’s just because she doesn’t know her,” Kibum said, the tone of his voice surprising Seokjin. His voice sounded like he was moments away from bursting into tears, but also like he was forcing himself to be calm. “And she cries a lot. She’s okay. She’s fine.”

Seokjin touched Kibum’s arm softly and said, “You should go be with Jonghyun. He puts up a good front most of the time. He’s good at hiding how he’s actually feeling. But there’s no way he isn’t hurting as badly as you are now. You should go and let him lean on your shoulder. Or lean on his.”

Kibum glanced at him. “This might take a while.”

Seokjin nudged him. “You two take all the time you need. And if you need to get Jonghyun out of here, and go for a walk, or just go home for the day, I’ve got you covered.”

Giving a shaky nod, Kibum headed off towards Jonghyun’s office.

They didn’t come out for some time. Seokjin didn’t know what they were talking about inside, and he didn’t think it was his place to know, but he certainly knew they were at it for a while. Seokjin started and finished several rounds of walk-ins before they emerged.

Kibum left quickly after that, and Seokjin was sure to repeat to Jonghyun, “You can take the day, if you need. I’m serious.”

“I don’t need the day,” Jonghyun said in an offended way. “I’m upset, okay? I spent four days falling in love with that little girl, and starting to feel like she was a part of my family with Kibum. It was nice. It was better than nice. And now she’s gone. So yes, I’m angry. I’m upset. But no, I don’t need to take the day. I can still do my job.”

Seokjin trusted Jonghyun to judge himself that way. “Okay. Where’s Kibum going?”

Gruffly, Jonghyun said, “He got really excited when we brought Yebin home. I told him not to buy a bunch of stuff for her. I told him we’d have to give her up eventually. So now I think he’s going home to get rid of everything.”

“Oh,” Seokjin said faintly.

Jongyhun gave a sharp nod, and then he was off to start his own rounds.

The rest of the day passed easily for Seokjin. And though his mind was still on Yebin and her future, and on his friends who were hurting, the pain was dulling considerably earlier than he’d expected.

And by the time his shift was over, he hardly felt like he’d worked for a good nine hours. But the clinic was closing, all the patients were gone, and it was Seokjin’s turn to face reality.

On his phone there was a text from Jungkook, asking if he wanted to go out for dinner, which Seokjin quickly declined. It far too late for that, especially since Jungkook had class in the morning. And even if it hadn’t been too late, Seokjin had somewhere else he needed to be.

He texted Jungkook that he wouldn’t be home that night, at least not to that apartment, and set out for a different destination.

Namjoon wasn’t home when he parked in front of the apartment they used to share. No lights were on, and there was no indication that he’d been home recently.

There were still men outside, like there always were, but there were far fewer of them than Seokjin had ever seen before. There were only two now, one at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the second floor, and one up near the front door.

Each of them gave him a long, confused stare, but neither of them tried to stop him.

Namjoon hadn’t changed the locks. That was what Seokjin found out when he slotted his key in to the door, but he wasn’t really surprised. He turned the lock without hesitation and stepped into the dark apartment.

Everything looked the same. Though it wasn’t like an extended period of time had passed, or Seokjin had expected Namjoon to completely change the apartment. It was just …a little unsettling with how absolutely identical it looked to the moment Seokjin had packed a bag and left it behind.

Namjoon’s extra shoes were still lined up near the front door. The pillows on the sofa were unkept. Seokjin’s own knickknacks were spread around the living room. The mail was sitting in a pile near on the coffee table.

Nothing had changed.

This, Seokjin decided, was his home. And it wasn’t his home because it was where he laid down at night, or ate his meals, or watched television. It was his home because this was where Namjoon was.

And Namjoon was worth fighting for.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Seokjin sent a quick text off to Yoongi, asking for Namjoon’s location.

He didn’t get a text back, he got a call.

“Why do you want to know?” Yoongi asked a little grumpy.

Seokjin wondered, “Is this the part where you tell me I’m a jerk for breaking up with your best friend?”

Yoongi sounded genuinely surprised when he said, “No? What are you talking about?”

“Are you angry?”

Yoongi laughed a little. “I’m sitting in a car right now, with three other guys, watching the same building that I’ve been watching for the past six hours, because someone dropped a somewhat reliable trip that there might be some movement on the place that we’d be interested in. I’m hungry, I’m restless, I’m irritated, and it’s not my job to keep track of anyone but myself at this moment.”

Seokjin said certainly, flipping on lights in the kitchen and taking stock of what was in the refrigerator—surprisingly not a lot that was still good, he pointed out, “I can hear it in your voice, you’re not taking any painkillers now. Not even the Tylenol. Just because you’re not on bedrest anymore doesn’t mean your wound is healed. You’d be a much happier person if you were taking something.”

“Kim Seokjin.”

Taking a couple items out of the refrigerator, Seokjin said, “I want to know where Namjoon is. I’m making dinner. It’s late. I want to know if he’s coming home.”

Sounding confused now, Yoongi edged out, “You’re home … like …”

“I’m home,” Seokjin said a little more gently. “Is he coming home?”

There was some shuffling on the other side of the line, and some mumbling like people were talking to each other, and then Yoongi said, “Oh yeah, the news is going around now that you’re there.”

“News?” Seokjin asked, nearly dropping a carton of eggs.

“Hey,” Yoongi said, “when you’re off doing your thing, no one keeps tabs on you. But you just showed up at ground zero. So yeah, people know you’re there, and now they’re talking about it. And that, more than anything else, makes this conversation utterly unnecessary. I promise you, Rap Mon is on his way now. He’ll probably be there before you even finish making dinner.”

“Oh,” Seokjin said, cradling his phone between his ear and shoulder. “You sure? I don’t want him to think I’m over here just packing up a couple more things up. I don’t want him to stay away because of that.”

Yoongi gave a pause, then asked, “You’re absolutely not doing that?” He sounded a little hopeful, at least.

Seokjin turned the stove on as he organized his ingredients and said, “I’m making dinner. I want him to know I’m here making dinner.”

Yoongi let out a sigh and said, “I’ll send him a text just in case, telling him to go home. That good enough?”

“Thank you,” Seokjin said appreciatively.

“Thank me by not bugging me like you’re my doctor.”

Seokjin pointed out, “I am your doctor. And by now Jungkook should have let you know I’ll never stop bugging you.”

“I figured,” Yoongi laughed. “Goodbye, Jin.”

“Enjoy your wait,” Seokjin replied, and ended the call.

After that, he set to work on a quick, simple dinner, but something that would keep him focused and distracted until Namjoon got home.

Because honestly, if he let himself think about what was about to happen, he thought he might go crazy.

By the time the shoe of reality was set to drop, Seokjin had finished the rice, several side dishes, and was thinking about desert. It just seemed as if nothing else, including food, mattered when the lock on the door to the apartment turns, and someone pushed their way in.

Namjoon, of course.

Seokjin didn’t leave the kitchen, and Namjoon, likely indicative of his nervousness, didn’t come in. It seemed suddenly like they were existing in two separate spaces all at once, but also right on top of each other.

And then finally, finally, Namjoon came to stand in the archway that separated the kitchen from the living room.

Namjoon looked … he looked utterly terrible. He looked the worst Seokjin had ever seen, and it evoked a crushing feeling in him. Because he had done that. At least it felt like it. He felt like he was the cause of the way Namjoon was suddenly resembling a zombie. 

Namjoon cleared his throat and said, “Suga sent me a message. He said to come here.”

Carefully, Seokjin revealed, “I asked him to help me with you. I knew your men would tell you I was here. I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

Namjoon’s eyes raked over the food laid out. “What are you doing?”

Seokjin could see the sweat on Namjoon’s forehead, and the tight control he had over his body. The tenseness that Namjoon was radiating, was thick in the room.

“I’m making dinner,” Seokjin said back.

“Jin,” Namjoon breathed out.

He said again, suddenly worried he’d made a catastrophic mistake, “I’m making dinner, in my home, for the person I love. Now, if you tell me to leave, I will. If you ask me to go, I will. But if you want to sit down and have dinner with me, and talk to me, then you should go wash your hands.”

Namjoon was frozen like a statue, at least until he gave a sharp intake of breath, and then veered towards the bathroom.

Seokjin gripped the edge of the countertop tightly, feeling like he’d just jumped his first hurdle.

Seokjin was seated at the table when Namjoon came back, smelling like the lavender soap they kept in the bathroom. Namjoon sat across from him at the table, and again, after just a slight pause of something akin to disbelief, he held his bowl out to Seokjin.

Quietly, as Seokjin scooped rice out for Namjoon, he made sure to say firmly, “I will leave if you want me to. I’m serious. Don’t let me bully you into this.”

“Into what?” Namjoon asked in a baffled way. “What is this? What are we doing?”

“I’m …” Seokjin trailed off. What the hell was he doing? Beating a dead horse? Jimin had said not to give up, but what if there was nothing left to try and save?

“—look stressed out.”

Seokjin’s head bobbed up at Namjoon’s voice. “I’m sorry?”

Namjoon gave him a small, encouraging smile. “I said, you look stressed out. Are you okay? Is everything okay at work?”

The questions were so undoubtably Namjoon that Seokjin nearly burst into tears.

“I love you,” Seokjin blurted out.

Namjoon leaned back in his seat. “I love you too.”

“No,” Seokjin clarified you, “I love you the way two people who are supposed to spend their whole lives together, love each other. That’s how I love you. I love you in an almost scary way.”

Namjoon scoffed, picking up his chopsticks. “And you think I don’t love you just as fiercely?” Namjoon’s eyes narrowed. “You think I wouldn’t lay down on a wire for you? Or take a bullet for you? Jin, I spend basically every waking hour thinking about how much I love you, and trying to figure out how I got so lucky that I get to have you.”

Part of Seokjin had known that. But after their breakup, he’d still needed to hear it.

Namjoon corrected sadly, “Had you.”

Seokjin gripped his own bowl. “You got it right the first time.”

There was nothing but an unreadable expression on Namjoon’s face.

So Seokjin took his cue to say, “I’ve been staying with Jungkook since … since last week. I’ve been staying with him—you know that. What you don’t know is that I’ve been laying awake on his sofa every single night, trying to picture my life without you. Even a week into the future without you. And I can’t do it. I just can’t.”

With a straight face, “Namjoon said, I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true,” Seokjin said defensively. “I’ve been trying to imagine what me without you is like, and it’s just something impossible. And I—”

“No,” Namjoon cut in, the hint of amusement on his face, “I don’t believe for a second that Jungkook would let you sleep on the sofa.”

Seokjin felt his own mouth mirror Namjoon’s. “I didn’t, the first night. Only because I was sure if I didn’t give in and take his bed while he moved to the sofa, that he’d have a stroke out of fear that my delicate sensibilities would be so upset I might suffer heart failure over the lumpy peice of furniture.”

“Now that,” Namjoon laughed a little, “sounds right.”

“The second night,” Seokjin told him, “I made it clear I wasn’t going to put him out of his own bed, especially since he was doing me a favor by letting me stay with him for a short while. It’s been a work in progress since then.”

Namjoon began to eat then, and Seokjin dared to think he’d broken through some of the tension in the room.

“The thing is,” he said, getting back on track, “I’m not lying about laying awake at night. I’m not lying about having all my thoughts about the future muddled into a mess that doesn’t make sense to me. Because there is no me without you in the future, at least not in my mind. There is nothing I can see, not even in a best case, where I have a future without you and I’m happy. Because for good or bad, my happiness is tied to you. Because I love you.”

In an admission, Namjoon confessed, “Suga’s been getting mad at me for not being able to focus. Because I’m always thinking of you.”

Seokjin pressed on, “I used to think that I could be happy in any future, no matter what, if I had some friends, and a career I loved, and something I was doing that felt meaningful. But that’s not true. I could have all those things, and not have you, and not find an ounce of happiness. That’s how I know this thing between us, this love, is real. That’s why I agree with Jimin.”

Looking baffled, Namjoon asked, “Jimin?”

“Yeah, Jimin of all people.”

His eyebrows going up, Namjoon prompted, “Go on.”

“He said,” Seokjin said slowly, “that even from his perspective, from an outside perspective, he could see we were the real deal, and he was baffled.”

“Baffled?”

Seokjin nodded. “Baffled that we were so willing to throw in the towel and call it quits.”

With a wince, Namjoon tried, “That’s not …”

“He basically called us idiots,” Seokjin told Namjoon. “He said a love like ours? At the risk of sounding like a Disney movie, he said it’s something worth fighting for. So I’m here, fighting for it. Because I want to be happy. I want to have a future where I’m happy, and I can’t do that without you.”

Namjoon’s hands stilled atop the table.

“So you need to tell me right now, if this is me just … just making a fool of myself.” Seokjin pushed past the ball of anxiety and worry that had built up impressively in his throat. “You need to tell me if I’m stupid for being here, and if there’s nothing to fight for. Otherwise I’m here, fighting for you. I just need to know if you’ll fight for me.”

“Are you serious?” Namjoon’s chopsticks clattered to the table and he pressed his palms to his eyes.

“Namjoon?” Seokjin was half standing to round the table and comfort him before he caught himself and made himself sit back down. Loving Namjoon wasn’t enough right then and there. Answers and clarity were more important.

Namjoon’s shoulders shook.

Seokjin tried again, “Namjoon? Are you … I …”

Namjoon pried back his palms to reveal wet eyes that quickly shed tears down his cheeks. He made such a profound sight, such a raw sight, and Seokjin curled in on himself.

“I’m so sorry,” he tried to apologize, worried again that he’d done more to hurt Namjoon. “I shouldn’t have spoken so bluntly. I shouldn’t have—”

“I would fucking die for you,” Namjoon raggedly. “That’s how much I love you. Your happiness is more important to me than you could possibly imagine. I love you more than you will ever know.”

Then what the hell was going on? Seokjin was terrified he had no idea.

“I would fight for you until my last breath,” Namjoon told him. “I would fight for you until there’s nothing left of me. How can you think I wouldn’t fight for you?”

“Because you let me walk out that door,” Seokjin said pointedly. “You let me say what I had to say, and go. I was wrong to go, but you let me.”

“Because I love you!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“It does!”

Seokjin took in a hard breath and asked, back at a normal tone, “Why are we yelling at each other?”

“I don’t know,” Namjoon said honestly.

Taking a few moments to compose himself, Seokjin stood, and this time he did go around to Namjoon’s side. He went to sit right next to him, so there was as little space between them as possible. “How could have letting me walk away from you been because you love me?”

Namjoon palmed his eyes. “Give me a second.”

Seokjin waited patiently.

He expected Namjoon to take his time to gather his thoughts. He wasn’t expecting Namjoon to catch his hand before he said, “I’d give you up, to make you happy?”

“I just told you, I don’t have a future with any kind of happiness, if I don’t have you in it.”

“You say that now,” Namjoon insisted. “But without me, you can get married to someone who lives a safe, normal life. You can have all the things you want, including a family. You can eventually be happy, and no matter how much I want you for myself, to give you that, I’m willing to let go.”

Seokjin squeezed at Namjoon’s hand tightly, hopefully a little painfully. “Does it seem like I want you to let go?”

“Just think about it.”

“No,” Seokjin said a little viciously “I am not going to think about it. I’m not going to let you do this to us. I’m telling you right here and now, do not let go of me.”

Finally, he felt Namjoon squeeze back. “I don’t want to.”

“This is real.” Seokjin lifted a hand to brush back Namjoon’s hair from his forehead. The man desperately needed a haircut soon. But the longer hair made him look a little younger, and a lot more vulnerable than normal. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Namjoon gave a head shake. “I promised never to lie to you.”

Seokjin let his fingers go down the side of Namjoon’s face, against the beard that was starting to develop from the personal neglect that was clearly occurring.

“Jimin said, when love is real, you have to fight for it. You have to do everything in your power not to let it go. That’s why I’m here, in this apartment, right now. That’s why I’m putting everything on the line.”

Namjoon was shaking under the light touch of his fingers.

“And don’t you try and tell me what I want in my own future. Don’t you try and tell me what you think is going to make me happy.”

“I would never,” Namjoon vowed in a rough way, “dream of telling you what to do. I know better.”

Seokjin couldn’t help himself then. He couldn’t help the emotions rushing through him, and the want, the desire, bubbling up in him.

With barely a moment of hesitation, he dipped forward to press his mouth against Namjoon’s.

Namjoon responded in kind, cradling Seokjin immediately, his mouth warm and desperate and even a bit possessive against Seokjin’s.

It wasn’t the kind of kiss Seokjin was used to having with Namjoon. It wasn’t the kind of kiss he’d ever had with anyone. This kiss reeked of worry and fear, and uncertainty, but also love, and passion, and determination.

Seokjin could barely gasp in air as Namjoon kissed back with fervor, one hand stroking down the column of his neck, the other tangling up in his hair.

“I love you,” Seokjin tried to tell him, not sure if he wanted to keep kissing, or stop to get to the point he hadn’t even touched yet. “Namjoon.”

“You,” Namjoon replied, “are my everything.”

Seokjin just felt so lost, but not how he’d been before. Before, he’d felt lost in the uncertainty of their relationship. Now he just felt lost in a sea of everything that was Namjoon.

He barely gave a grunt of surprise when Namjoon pulled him, with impressive strength, onto his lap. He barely registered the movement itself, going love drunk.

“Jin,” Namjoon breathed out. “Jin.”

“Wait.” Seokjin put his hands on Namjoon’s shoulders and leaned back. There wasn’t much space to work with, however, and his lower back hit the table quickly enough. “Namjoon.”

“Sorry,” Namjoon apologized with a blush of embarrassment. “I just … I just lost control. I always feel like I’m going to lose control with you.”

Seokjin felt the heat of Namjoon’s mouth lingering on his lips, but he put aside the sensation to say, “You’re it for me, so we have to make this work. We have to find a middle ground. We have to do something. You don’t let go, and I won’t let go. Okay?”

There was something sobering and dark on Namjoon’s face then, as he reminded, “I can’t put our baby in danger, Seokjin. I can’t have kids with you and then dangle them in front of people who will kill them just to hurt me.”

“Namjoon.” Seokjin put a finger to his lips. “Let me ask you a couple of questions, okay? Just answer them truthfully. That’s all I’m asking. If you listen to the questions, and answer them truthfully, then I’ll know what this all means.”

Namjoon didn’t speak, he only waited.

The first, naturally, was the easiest. He asked simply, “Do you love me?”

Namjoon actually looked unimpressed. “I just told you I would lay down on a wire for you, and that you are my everything. You are literally the reason I get up in the morning, and the reason I try to be a good person. You are … you’re just it. So yes, I love you. I love you more than I know how to handle some days.”

Not knowing how many more would come, Seokjin leaned down for a chaste kiss this time, letting his lips linger against Namjoon’s for a moment as he breathed out, “Good answer.”

Namjoon’s fingers held at his waist, balancing him with extra stability. “I meant every word.”

There was so much friction between them that Seokjin could hardly focus enough to ask, “Do you want to marry me?”

“This second?”

“Not this second,” Seokjin laughed out. “Some day—when we’re ready. Do you want to be married to me? Do you want to be my husband?”

“Very much,” Namjoon said, reeking of honesty.

But that hadn’t been a hard question either. The hard one came next, and it was the only other question to ask.

Reading himself, Seokjin breathed out deeply before asking, “Do you want to have children with me?”

Namjoon’s face crumbled. “Jin, you know—”

Seokjin interrupted sharply, “I asked, do you want to. Do you want to have children with me? As my husband? Do you want us to have a family?”

“It’s not safe to—”

“Do you want to?” Seokjin ground out. “Not will you. Do you want to?”

Namjoon’s hands slid from his waist to wrap more firmly around him as he choked out, “Oh god, yes.”

Seokjin felt Namjoon shudder against him again, like he was suddenly too cold, or something even wore that that.

“Today is not tomorrow,” Seokjin whispered in his ear. “What we have today, is not what we’ll have tomorrow. Right now, you’re correct. Our lives are a little unstable. Right now, it’s not safe. But you’re not clairvoyant. You can’t see where we’ll be five years from now. Never say never, and don’t decide something prematurely.”

“I love you,” Namjoon said, his mouth at Seokjin’s jawline. “I don’t know how you always know what to say, but I love you even more for it.”

“What matters,” Seokjin told him, pausing to turn for a proper kiss, “is that you love me, and you want to marry me some day, and you want children with me because of those reasons. That’s what matters, and everything else? We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. We’ll make it work when we have to.”

He’d planned to say so much more. He’d planned to promise Namjoon that they wouldn’t have a child if it meant that child would be in danger, and that they’d find a way to make their future not wholly about Bangtan. He wanted to say that he understood Namjoon’s fears, and he’d never been trying to invalidate him.

But all of that was lost when Namjoon bumped the table in his haste to get to his feet, Seokjin going with him in his arms, shouting in surprise but also laughing.

“I won’t let go,” Namjoon vowed, stealing more kisses that were only growing steamier. “So you don’t either, okay?”

“The food!” Seokjin reminded as they crashed down onto the sofa in the living room, not even making it to their bedroom before Namjoon was pulling at his shirt to get it off, and Seokjin was already predicting exactly what came next.

“It was lovely,” Namjoon promised, getting Seokjin’s shirt over his head and diving in for lustful kisses. “I swear. But this is better.”

This wasn’t just better, Seokjin decided, this was right.

“I love you,” Seokjin couldn’t help saying again, tucking his arms around Namjoon and feeling the warmth of their bodies press together. “And I swear we’re stronger than this.”

Lovingly Namjoon raked his hands down Seokjin’s sides, and said, “I never should have let you walk out that door. I said it was okay because I thought you’d go off and find someone else to love and they’d give you what you wanted. But I knew it was wrong, and I was an idiot for not going after you. That will never happen again. I swear to you. I will never let you go again.”

“You know,” Seokjin laughed out, “under any other circumstance this would sound utterly creepy and weird. But now? Now it sounds perfect.”

Namjoon grinned as he loomed over Seokjin. “Did you tell your brother you’re not going home to him tonight?”

Teasing, Seokjin asked, “Should I have?”

“Oh, you definitely should have, because you’re not going anywhere.”

“Perfect,” Seokjin said, and when Namjoon leaned down to kiss him, he rose up to meet him.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

“This feels weird. Wrong. Kinda creepy, actually.”

“Excuse me?” From a simple breakfast of fruit and yogurt, Seokjin glanced over to Namjoon who was stretched out languidly on their bed. He was quite naked, but utterly unconcerned with his nudity as he curled on his side, propping his head up with his palm. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Namjoon bypassed his yogurt and went straight for a handful of blueberries, popping a couple in his mouth.

“Well?” Seokjin prompted. He was seated, unlike Namjoon, with his legs tucked under him and sheets pooled around his waist. But he was naked as well, and he and Namjoon hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other for a very long time. They’d even fallen asleep, only to wake back up in the morning with just as much fervor as the night before.

Seokjin called it making up for lost time, even though they’d only been separated for a half week.

“This,” Namjoon prompted, chewing his blueberries. “Me and you, eating in bed for once.”

“There is nothing wrong with not wanting crumbs in the bed,” Seokjin told him pointedly. He’d about had a heart attack the first time he’d caught Namjoon eating in the bed they slept in.

“I know, I know,” Namjoon laughed. “You’re just an utter stick in the mud about it, so when you said we should just eat breakfast in bed today, it threw me off.”

Seokjin didn’t say that he’d decided they could break the rules for one morning and only one morning because his backside was so sore he wasn’t sure he could sit on the floor or on anything firm like a chair. And, if the way Namjoon was hobbling his way to the bathroom that morning meant anything, he should have been a little more thankful.

“I think this is nice,” Seokjin decided, stirring a spoon through his yogurt. The clock on the bedside table said it was just after ten. “Being here with you is nice.”

Namjoon curled a little more towards him, reaching to wrap long fingers around Seokjin’s ankle. “I could lay around in bed with you all day, every day.” To prove his point, he gave a leisurely stretch, arching his back.

Seokjin tried not to be distracted by the sab of lust racing its way through him at the defined lines of muscle in Namjoon’s body

“But,” Namjoon drawled out, still sounding a little sleepy, “I’m even more surprised your head isn’t exploding from the idea of blowing off work.”

Seokjin leaned up on his knees then to put the bowl of yogurt on the bedside table, and then he was collapsing into Namjoon’s arms.

“I’m almost more surprised than you,” Seokjin admitted.

Truthfully, when he’d woken that morning at six, his body primed to get up for work no matter how tired he still felt, the idea of actually going down to the clinic and being away from Namjoon, felt unbearable.

They’d worked out their differences. They’d met in the middle and come to an understanding. But there was still an irrational fear in Seokjin that if he left the apartment that morning, he wouldn’t be able to come back to Namjoon, or Namjoon wouldn’t be waiting for him. So he’d called down to the clinic the moment he was certain there’d be someone there at reception, and asked about the day’s roster.

Maybe he’d just gotten lucky that they were full staffed and could afford to lose him for the half shift he was planning to work that day.

In any case, luck or not, he’d said he’d had an emergency come up, and that he wasn’t going to be able to go into work until the afternoon, and promised to make the hours up later in the week.

Then, he’d told Namjoon as soon as he was awake, “I don’t care if Myungsoo himself is banging down the door to our apartment. We’re going to stay right here, for as long as possible.” He’d gestured to the bed and practically dared Namjoon to challenge him.

Namjoon was a lazy cat in a lot of ways, prone to falling asleep in the sun, napping whenever possible, and taking things easy when he could. Seokjin shouldn’t have worried that Namjoon might fight him on the issue.

Hours later now, they still hadn’t moved from bed, other than to get food and go to the bathroom, and Seokjin was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“This,” Seokjin said, his head on Namjoon’s shoulder, “is why you have Yoongi.”

Chuckling in an amused way, Namjoon asked, “So I can lay in bed all day with my super hot boyfriend?”

“Exactly.”

Namjoon’s fingers stroked idly along the skin between Seokjin’s shoulder blades. “Nice.”

“Okay,” Seokjin amended. “Not all day. Just for a little while longer, okay?”

Curiously, Namjoon asked, “So you’re playing hooky from work, you delinquent. What are you actually going to do today instead?”

“I was only going to work a half shift today,” Seokjin said indignantly. “But have you forgotten? Hoseok and Taehyung come back from their anniversary trip today. I was thinking I’d take Jungkook with me to pick them up from the train station, considering we were the ones who dropped them off. Their train comes in at just past one. Maybe I’ll play hooky the whole day instead.”

Seokjin hadn’t gotten a ton of correspondence from when while they’d been away, but that seemed like a very good thing. There’d been the occasional text message, or picture, and Hoseok had let him know that everything was fine with the little cottage by the sea they were staying in. But no news was good news when it came to two people enjoying each other on their anniversary.

He was going to be glad to have them back, however. Hoseok always lifted his spirits, and Taehyung was such a frequent visitor to the clinic that some of the patients had started to ask where he was.

“I forgot,” Namjoon admitted.

“You have a lot on your mind,” Seokjin allowed, wrapping an arm around Namjoon’s waist. “But let me be clear, our own anniversary is coming up shortly. We are going to be doing something for it.”

Namjoon’s voice rumbled as he laughed out, “I haven’t forgotten, Jin. I swear it. Even if the world is imploding around us, we’ll celebrate our anniversary.”

Of course that left worry on Seokjin’s mind about getting Namjoon a good present for the occasion. He was completely unsure what to get him, and he was starting to run short on time.

“We should do the same thing that Hoseok and Taehyung did,” Seokjin decided. “We should go away for a little.”

Namjoon made a frustrated sound. “That would be great, actually, but it’s not realistic in the slightest bit. Not right now. Not with tension starting to build, and this stuff with Infinite, and the uncertainty of what comes next.”

“Not for like a week or two.” Seokjin craned his head back to look at Namjoon properly. “For a weekend. Don’t tell me Yoongi can’t hold things together here, with the help of everyone else, for a single weekend.”

Indecision was playing on Namjoon’s face.

“We need to get away,” Seokjin said quietly, and with a small frown. “We need to just be us again, Namjoon. We’ve always been us plus Bangtan from the start, or even us plus the clinic. I mean frankly, sometimes we’re us plus Jungkook. I acknowledge that, but it’s starting to become something more than it should be. I’m not saying Bangtan is a bad thing, and I’m not resentful. But we need to spend some time getting back to just us, and establishing boundaries again, and putting work into our relationship.”

Namjoon wiggled his eyes at Seokjin. “Oh, we put so much work in last night.”

“Namjoon.”

“And this morning.”

“Namjoon.”

“And like an hour ago.”

“Namjoon!”

“Alright. I get it.” Namjoon’s fingers pressed a little more firmly into the muscles at Seokjin’s back, and the touch felt heavenly. “We need special us time.”

“I made all these assumptions about our relationship,” Seokjin said in a bare way, “and that led to us almost making a terrible mistake. But we could have avoided that if we were giving ourselves enough time to just talk, and figure things out, and be together.”

Namjoon went a little boneless on the bed, and used his free hand to drag over his face. “You’re not wrong okay? I know you’re not wrong. Time just … there’s not enough of it right now.”

“There has to be. We have to find it.” Seokjin wasn’t willing to compromise. “If we’re going to work, and we have to, this has to happen. Start talking to Yoongi. Start making plans. I’ll do the same. We need to go out of town for our anniversary. We need to get away from everything except ourselves. Okay?”

In a whining way, Namjoon said, “You know I have so much trouble saying no to you. It’s nearly impossible.”

That was very true, and Seokjin had seen examples of it over the course of their relationship hundreds of times. Namjoon, even if he didn’t want to seem like it, was a people pleaser. And when it came to people he loved, or cared for, he was a giant pushover. If Seokjin had been less of the person he was, he could have easily taken advantage of the way Namjoon was.

“Don’t you want to get away with me?” Seokjin asked, kissing his jawline.

“Don’t,” Namjoon pleaded. “I’m weak!”

“Don’t you love me?” Seokjin teased.

Namjoon rolled over on him, peppering his mouth with kisses, promising, “You know I do. You know I’m some stupid sap when it comes to how much I love you.”

“Get off,” Seokjin laughed, pushing at the bulk that was Namjoon.

“Noooo, I need you.”

Between the two of them, they devolved into a pair of giggling teenagers and it felt so, so good.

Time passed leisurely between them, with breakfast being eaten at a snail’s pace, and small naps sneaking their way in before the noon hour.

But eventually it seemed like the real world was ready to catch up with them, because Namjoon’s phone started going crazy, and Taehyung and Hoseok’s train wasn’t far out.

“How about,” Namjoon said after he was out of the shower and dressed for the day, “we all get together for lunch tomorrow?”

“Who’s we?” Seokjin asked, checking his phone for a response from Jungkook about going to the train station.

“Us, your brother, Suga, J-Hope, V, Jimin.”

Seokjin tossed him an unbelievable look. “You really think you can get the seven of us in one spot?”

“I think we’ve done it before,” Namjoon said confidently. “I know we need to work on just us, and our relationship, but it’s been a while since the seven of us were in one room together.”

“Tomorrow?” Seokjin asked. He’d wanted to take Hoseok and Taehyung out for a meal anyway, if only to get details about their trip from them. It had been a long time since Seokjin had been to Jeju, and he wanted to know if it was just as beautiful as he remembered.

“Can you work it into your schedule?” Namjoon asked. He kissed the side of Seokjin’s head as he passed by him in the bedroom for his sock drawer.

Seokjin was excited about the prospect, and promised, “I’ll make it work.”

“You usually do,” Namjoon said indulgingly, sounding so utterly in love with him that Seokjin practically felt his knees go weak.

And just fifteen minutes after that Namjoon had his car keys in hand and was standing near the front door, moments away from leaving.

“Wait,” Seokjin said, calling out to him from the kitchen where he’d been trying to clean up the dinner from the night before that had gotten left out in their haste. Namjoon had told him to leave it, and promised to clean it up later, but Seokjin couldn’t stomach the idea of leaving the mess out any longer. He liked to keep his home a particular kind of clean, the kind that drove Jungkook up the wall, but that Namjoon always indulged him in.

“I’ve got to go,” Namjoon told him in a sorry way. “Suga was out last night checking into something, and it looks light it might actually pay off. He claims he found something of worth, so I’ve got to get over there.”

Seokjin wiped his soapy, wet hands on a dish rag and went to Namjoon offering up, “He did mention last night he was watching a place for movement. Some place you suspect is tried to Infinite?”

Namjoon nodded. “It’s been linked to Sunggyu in the past, and there’s been a lot of movement there lately. Even if we’re just picking off Infinite little by little, it’s something. We can’t get at the big players right now, so we’ll have to take what we can get.”

When Seokjin reached his side, he took Namjoon’s face in his hands and said, “You look like you’re wearing yourself thin.”

“Jin,” Namjoon sighed out, but not rudely. And he didn’t pull away.

“I’m serious,” Seokjin said, holding onto him a little tighter. “I understand that this is important, and that this is something that is beyond stressful, but you need to take better care of yourself. I know you’re not eating as much as you should, or getting the sleep you should, or taking time to just relax and let go of some of the tension in you. I can see it in how pale you are, and the bags under your eyes, and the way you’re holding yourself these days.”

None of that was untrue, but since the night before, Namjoon looked remarkably better. He wasn’t back to where he should have been, looking happy and tan and filled out. But he’d gotten a good amount of sleep the night before, and Seokjin had been able to put food into him.

“I’m not going to baby you,” Seokjin said firmly, “or mother you, but I need your word that you’re going to stop giving it your best effort to work yourself into an early grave.”

Namjoon told him seriously, “I delegate as much as I can. But a lot has to be on my shoulders, and there are only so many people I trust implicitly, even within my own gang, that I can give serious things to.”

“I know,” Seokjin said softly, cradling Namjoon’s face as he gave him a gentle kiss. “But I’m watching you change in front of me, and it’s not good. You’re losing that youthful glow you used to have. You’re developing stress lines. You’re tossing and turning in bed. You … I just want you to know that I’m noticing, and I don’t like it.”

Namjoon watched him carefully for a second, then said, “We’re going to go out of town for our anniversary, okay? I know I said we’d try before, but we are. I’m telling you right now. I’m making a promise to you. We’re getting away from here, and then all we’re going to do is eat and sleep, and make love.”

“Promises, promises.”

“It is a promise.” Namjoon caught Seokjin’s wrists. “And you can baby me then. You can mother hen the crap out of me. And I’ll do my best to not look like such a worn-down old man.”

“Namjoon.” Seokjin shook his head. “I don’t care what you look like. You know that’s not what this is about. I care about what you look like on the outside, reflecting how you might be feeling on the inside. But that promise? I’ll take that promise. Don’t you dare break it.”

Once more, Namjoon promised, “Unless Myungsoo himself is bringing the roof down on top of us, we’re going away for our anniversary. I promise.”

Seokjin gave him another kiss, but he didn’t let go of Namjoon’s face, meeting his gaze in a firm way.

“What?” Namjoon asked, uncertain.

 “You’re going to be a great father one day.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened.

“Don’t you tell me different, either,” Seokjin said. “Not today. Not tomorrow. Not five years from now. But when it’s safer—yes, it will be safer one day, and when we’re older and ready, and when the time is right, you’re going to be a great father.”

“Jin,” Namjoon said with a tremble.

“And,” Seokjin said, suddenly grateful to have Namjoon’s hands at his wrists, practically holding him up now, “I know that when we do have a family, you will never, ever let anything happen to our baby. I know that like I know I love you.”

“You can’t,” Namjoon started to say.

“I can,” Seokjin said right back. “Because when you care about something, you throw yourself into it wholly. When you see something as an injustice, or worth backing, you go hard. And that’s just your general philosophy as a person. Imagine how much more amazing you’re going to be when you have a baby you love. In fact, god help that baby because of how overprotective you’re going to be.”

Namjoon still didn’t look sold on the issue, but at least he wasn’t fighting Seokjin on it.

“I know, I know,” Seokjin murmured gently, “it’s too dangerous for us to have a family right now. But I genuinely believe that will change. Bangtan is doing some amazing things. Yes, Infinite is a lingering threat, but you’re actually cleaning up the streets. You’re actually making a difference. You’re building allies and friendships, and you’re laying the groundwork for a day when the police are ready to take back over, and they can be an effective force again.”

Namjoon’s face scrunched up. “You really think a day is going to come when Bangtan isn’t needed anymore?”

Seokjin did. It wasn’t a lie, and he made sure to say, “I think that day is inevitable. Gangs are … they’re things that grow out of necessity or corruption. Bangtan grew out of the first, others grew out of the latter. But regardless, my father helped gut the police department before he passed, and Infinite isn’t around to fill their ranks. That’s not to say corruption can’t or won’t finds its way back in potentially, but I think a lot more people are looking at the police now, and holding them accountable, and things are changing. I do believe there will be a day when Bangtan can retire, and that’s the day we’ll have our family.”

“That’s quite a dream to have,” Namjoon said.

Seokjin finally let his hands drop. “I don’t think it’s just a dream at all. And to reiterate, yes, I think you’re going to be an amazing father. You’re a great partner, you’re kind and generous, you put others before yourself, and I love you. So if the first couple things don’t sell you, the last one should.”

Namjoon seemed to brighten a little then. “The idea of being a father…if and when it’s safe … is a terrifying thing.”

“I think it’s supposed to be,” Seokjin laughed out. “You’re probably doing something wrong if you’re not terrified about being a parent.”

Finally, a full smile broke out on Namjoon’s face. “I don’t know if I believe I’ll ever think it’s safe enough to have a kid, but I know better than to doubt you. You have this insane way of being right all of the time.”

“Not all of the time.”

“All of the time,” Namjoon insisted. “You’re not perfect, but you seem that way a lot.”

Insistently, Seokjin said, “I’m definitely going to be the mean parent.  I’ll be the one telling our kid to eat their vegetables, and go to bed early, and to say please and thank you. You’ll be the one pulling our kid out of school early so you two can go eat flavored ice and read comics.”

“Whatever,” Namjoon whistled out. “You will not be the mean parent. You’ll be the one who tucks the kid in at night, and reads them a story, and patches up their scrapes and bruises, and tells them they can be whatever they want when they’re older and we’ll love them no matter what. I’ll be the one running our kid’s first date off with a baseball bat and a promise.”

Seokjin couldn’t help laughing solidly and throwing his arms around Namjoon’s neck to hug him hard. “That last part? I totally believe it.”

Namjoon said in his ear, “You have no idea. Be afraid. Our non-existent kid should be afraid.”

A phone buzzed, and it definitely wasn’t Seokjin’s which was still in the bedroom.

“Get going now,” Seokjin said, nudging Namjoon after one more kiss. “You have work to do, and the sooner you leave, the quicker you can come back to me tonight.”

Namjoon asked, eyebrows wiggling, “You cooking again tonight?”

“Probably,” Seokjin admitted. He was cooking even more frequently now that he and Namjoon lived together, and he had a full kitchen at his disposal.  Cooking was truly turning into a hobby he enjoyed. “But if I cook, I’m not doing it for one person. If I cook, you better be here tonight to eat.”

Shoulders slumping a little, Namjoon offered, “That’s a promise I want to make, but I don’t know what I’m walking into today with Suga. I don’t want to promise you I’ll be home for dinner, and then break that.”

The honesty, Seokjin appreciated.

“How about,” Seokjin offered up, “I’ll invite Jungkook and Jimin over tonight for dinner, to say thank you for letting me stay with them for a couple of days. So even if you can’t make it, I won’t make dinner for just myself tonight.”

“Perfect.” Namjoon looked relieved.

Seokjin watched him open the door, and said quickly, “But you should try to make it tonight. Last night … well, last night has an excuse. And I guess tonight might, too. But tonight is the last time I’m going to cook for a while.  I’m scheduled for a couple of extended shifts coming up, and then a ton of late shifts after that. I won’t have time to cook after tonight. At least not dinners.”

“More incentive, then,” Namjoon said, and pulled the door open fully. “You’re going to the train station now?”

Seokjin nodded. “I’m going to pick Jungkook up and go now.”

“Pass along a message for me?” Namjoon asked. “Tell V and J-Hope to take it easy today. They’ve been traveling for a while. They’re probably worn out. And I don’t think anything is going to explode today. So tell them to go home, and get some rest, and not worry about anything until tomorrow.”

Seokjin had told himself no more kissing Namjoon. At least for the moment. Because it was too hard not to get caught up in the sensation, and they both had places they needed to be.

But he really couldn’t help himself, pressing a final kiss to Namjoon’s cheek and chiding, “You softie.”

Namjoon beamed a little. “That didn’t sound like an insult.”

“Because it isn’t. Now go before Yoongi starts tearing his hair out. And honestly, tell him to start taking some Tylenol or over the counter painkillers. He’s too grumpy these days.”

“You try telling him to do anything,” Namjoon called as he stepped outside. Then he offered Seokjin a small wave and pulled the door closed after him.

Seokjin didn’t linger in the apartment after that. He finished the last of the dishes in the apartment, got his things together, and then left to pick up Jungkook from school.

Jungkook was waiting on the curb in front of his class’s building when Seokjin pulled up. He popped the trunk so Jungkook could put his things in the back, and then asked as his brother got in the car, “How was class?”

“Fine, dad,” Jungkook said, rolling his eyes.

Seokjin replied, “Don’t make me turn this car around.”

Sapping his seatbelt on, Jungkook grinned at him. “You wouldn’t, because maybe then I’d threaten to walk home, and then some guy in a white van might ask me to help him find his lost puppy, and you know where this is going.”

Seokjin merged into traffic and guessed, “With you in a hole in the ground being told to put lotion on?”

Frowning, Jungkook asked, “What?”

“You, my heathen little brother,” Seokjin said with his own grin, “need to watch some more classic movies. Silence of the Lambs. Get on it.”

Curiously, Jungkook wondered, “Is that one of your old people movies from the nineties?”

Seokjin’s jaw dropped. “You are dead to me.”

Jungkook threw his head back and laughed loudly.

They got to the train station roughly twenty minutes before Taehyung and Hoseok’s train was set to arrive, but it wasn’t a bother to wait around. Seokjin gave in when Jungkook hounded him to buy snacks, and then they sat together on a bench and ate and talked.

Inevitably, he always knew Jungkook planned to ask, “So you and Rap Mon … are you like … okay?”

Seokjin twisted off the cap to his drink. “Okay? What’s that supposed to mean?”

He knew exactly what Jungkook meant of course, but he was enjoying the awkwardness his brother was giving off, and the way he was wriggling in his seat, trying to find the right words.

 “I mean …”

Seokjin bit back a laugh as Jungkook continued to flounder.

“I mean,” his brother finally managed to get out, “are you two better or back together, or just talking now. Whatever. Take your pick. Are you better? That’s the one. Are you better?”

Seokjin had mercy on him then. “Do you think we’re better?”

Jungkook pondered his words, and then seemed to decide, “I think you are. I don’t really know what better means, but I think you are. Because you didn’t come home last night. And you actually look happier. But honestly?”

“Sure, honestly,” Seokjin prompted.

A smug look pulled at Jungkook’s face, and he said, “Mostly I think you two are better because there’s a hicky the side of Incheon on your neck right now, and I don’t think you’d let anyone but Rap Mon put that on you.”

Seokjin’s hand slapped to his neck in a mixture of shock and then sudden embarrassment.

Absolutely clear in his mind then was the good fifteen to twenty minutes Namjoon had spent the night before at his neck. Seokjin had warned him, “Don’t you dare leave any marks,” because it was hot now, and wearing high collared shirts seemed a bother, but it also appeared that Namjoon was terrible at following directions.

“I told him,” Seokjin said lowly, feeling along his skin.

A lot more confident now, Jungkook wondered, “Are you two back together?” He reached over and tugged Seokjin’s hand down. “Seriously, it’s not that bad. You’re just super pale. Stop freaking out.”

“I’m not freaking out.” He was freaking out a little. He wasn’t ashamed to be in a relationship, of course, but maintaining a standard of decorum was important to him. He wasn’t a handsy teenager, and he didn’t want to flounce around the hickeys.

He was going to destroy Namjoon the next time he saw him.

“So are you?”

“Hmm?” Seokjin asked, looking up to where the arrivals board was displaying the train as on time.

“Jin,” Jungkook said in an exacerbated way.  “Are you and Rap Mon back together?”

Seokjin let himself take a drink from the bottle he was holding, and then he said, “Yes. We’re back together.”

“Good,” Jungkook breathed out. “Do you know how uncomfortable it was to have my mom and dad fighting? I’m only a kid. I need stability in my life.”

Seokjin laughed out, “You’re not a kid. You’re just a spoiled brat.”

“I’m serious,” Jungkook insisted. “Some of the other guys were worried, too. You and Rap Mon … you’re a pair. The idea of one of you without the other? It’s unsettling, and some of the guys didn’t know what to do about that. Because they like you. They like spending time around you, but they weren’t sure if they were supposed to or not anymore, or if you wanted them around, or whatever. It was just confusion.”

Curiously, Seokjin asked, “What about you? Where do you fall with a line in the sand?”

There was a garbage can at the end of the bench they were sitting on, so Jungkook took aim and tossed his empty drink into it.

“I don’t know why you have to ask that,” Jungkook said, and then he swiped Seokjin’s drink to toss away when it was empty a few moments later. “You’re my brother. I’m always going to choose your side. I’m always going to choose you.”

It was pleasing to hear that, of course, but Seokjin couldn’t help pointing out, “You’re in a difficult position, though. That’s why I’m asking. Because I understand what kind of situation you’re facing. Yes, I’m your brother, and I trust you to have my back. But you’re a member of Bangtan now, and not just any member. You’re high ranking. You’re trusted. You have responsibilities, and authority, and clout. And Namjoon is your direct superior. He’s your friend, too.”

Jungkook nodded. “Bangtan means a lot to me, now. Not just the message or the people, but everything.  But come on, Jin. I’d dump Bangtan in a second if I had to for you, and I wouldn’t regret it for a second.”

Seokjin didn’t know if he believed that, but it was nice to hear all the same.

He told Jungkook, “Namjoon and I … we needed to talk about some important things concerning our future. We needed to be on the same page and communicate, and we hadn’t been doing that before.”

“But you guys always seem to perfect.” Jungkook frowned. “Even when you’re having fights, you always seem like the perfect couple.”

“We are not perfect,” Seokjin said tersely. “We’re just always careful to respect each other, even when we’re disagreeing. That’s not always easy, either, but we always try. But being respectful to each other, doesn’t mean we always communicate properly.”

“But you fixed that?”

Seokjin agreed, “We did our best, and I think we’re on the same page now.” Jokingly, he confirmed, “We’re not broken up anymore.”

“Good.” Jungkook look satisfied. “I didn’t realize how invested I was in your relationship until it was in trouble.”

Seokjin sobered a little. “I didn’t realize how much I was assuming about our relationship until those assumptions almost cost me everything.”

Jungkook breathed out, “Reality check?”

Seokjin nodded. “Reality check.”

It was Jungkook who looked up at the arrival’s board then and said, “The train’s almost here.”

Seokjin stood up and stretched. “Now let’s just hope the two of them are actually on the train and haven’t decided to skip town.”

“Nah,” Jungkook said with certainty. “Those two aren’t the type. I’m way more certain someone like Suga will skip town one day and never come back.”

“You all do drive him crazy.”

Jungkook beamed like the words were a badge of honor, and said, “Only because it’s so easy.”

The train, in a way that Seokjin could have likely predicted, was absolutely on time. And neither he nor Jungkook had to wait very long for it to stop completely when it arrived, or for passengers to start offboarding.

“They’re there,” Jungkook said excitedly, pointing Taehyung and Hoseok out in the crowd before Seokjin even spotted them. And to be truthful, he might have missed them if it hadn’t been for Jungkook, because they almost looked like completely different people.

They might have left looking how Seokjin remembered them, but they’d come back tan and relaxed looking, and seemingly so utterly happy that Seokjin found himself smiling in response.

“Taehyung!” Seokjin shouted over the roar of the crowed. Next to him Jungkook jumped up and down and waved an arm frantically. “Hoseok!”

Clearly neither of them had expected anyone to be there to pick them up, which Seokjin thought was a real travesty. But it was remedied by Hoseok’s face lighting with delight, and Jungkook practically mowing Taehyung down with a hug.

“You came to get us?” Hoseok asked when the four of them had clustered together, all of Taehyung and Hoseok’s bags collected.

“Of course we did!” Jungkook said loudly, as if it had been his idea from the start.

Seokjin took one of the bags as they started off towards the car, and said, “We dropped you off, didn’t we? I thought it was only proper to pick you up, too. Plus, I’m anxious to know if anything went wrong.”

“No way,” Hoseok whistled out. “Everything was perfect.”

Taehyung pulled a rolling suitcase behind him and agreed, “Seriously, Jin, thank you so much for letting us use that place in Jeju. It was amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like a mini mansion. Or like a museum.”

Seokjin hadn’t seen the place in a very, very long time, but he had enough memories of being afraid to touch anything in the house, to know what Taehyung meant.

“Please tell your uncle thank you again for us,” Taehyung said, a pep in his step. But there was something else, too, that Seokjin was noticing. There was a calmness in Taehyung now, and an utter lack of apprehension. Taehyung looked older now, in a very good way, and less jittery. He was still the same old Taehyung that Seokjin adored. But the trip to Jeju had done him a world of good.

They got to the car and loaded up the bags into the trunk. Then, as Seokjin was climbing into the driver’s seat, Hoseok asked, “Was everything okay while we were gone?”

“You weren’t gone that long,” Jungkook pointed out, pulling his seatbelt across his chest.

“No,” Hoseok agreed, “and I talked to Suga a couple of times, but things seemed … weird whenever we did talk. I couldn’t tell if it was just Suga being Suga, or if something else was going on.”

Jungkook glanced to Seokjin. “Are you still instituting that no Bangtan business in the car, rule?”

Seokjin ignored him, and told Hoseok, “From what I understand, the issue with Infinite is escalating. Whoever is pushing buttons under the guise of Infinite’s name, is getting bolder, but I don’t know any of the details, and I generally don’t ask for them.”

Taehyung leaned his head back against the car seat’s headrest and said, “We’re up, Hobi.”

Seokjin pulled out of the parking lot and merged into traffic, heading directly to Hoseok and Taehyung’s apartment.

“Actually,” he said, once he was comfortably merged into traffic, “Namjoon asked me to tell you two that you should just take today and rest up. You traveled a lot, today, and he wants you two at your best when you do get back to him, and that’s tomorrow. Instead, can I tempt you with dinner?”

Taehyung leaned forward immediately. “I’m listening. Go on.”

Hoseok laughed.

With a grin on his own face, Seokjin continued, “I’ll be working a lot of late shifts the next couple of weeks, so I won’t have time to cook. But I genuinely like it, and I think I’m good at it.”

Jungkook interjected sharply, “You’re really good at it.”

“And,” Seokjin tried to finish, “since I won’t get to cook again for a while, I’d like to do it tonight.” Especially since his dinner the night previous, while not anything fantastic, had been completely ignored the moment he and Namjoon had gotten their hands on each other. He felt a little guilty all the food had gone to waste and so little had been saved.

In a breathy way, Taehyung said, “Ask me to dinner, Jin. Ask me to dinner.”

“You know,” Hoseok announced, pushing Taehyung back in his seat, “considering I can’t cook worth a damn, you’d think this relationship would never work.”

Taehyung snapped to Hoseok. “That’s okay that you can’t cook, Hobi. You buy me lots of food, so that makes up for it.”

“Of course it does,” Hoseok said, sounding pleased.

“I want you two to come over for dinner tonight,” Seokjin finally got out. Taehyung gave a little cheer, too. “Namjoon said he’s going to try and get home at a decent time, but he may not. So will you two come over and save me the hassle of making too much food and not knowing what to do with it?”

Before Hoseok could answer, likely to accept the invitation, Taehyung rushed out, “I am already at your house, washing my hands, ready to eat. Just give the word. You need me there at five to help you prep? You need me to bring anything from the store? You—”

In a gob smacked way, Hoseok asked, “How are you not exhausted from the train ride? I just want to take a ten-hour nap, and you’re acting like this? How? Tell me your secrets.”

Their banter and repertoire was delightful, and Seokjin was content enough to just listen to it as they drove along.

He would have been, if Jungkook wasn’t throwing him the most lethal look he’d ever gotten from his brother.

“What?” Seokjin asked, truly concerned as they started to hit some midday traffic. “Jungkook?”

“You,” his brother seethed out, “are just gonna invite them to eat your food, with me sitting in the car here like I mean nothing?”

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “Stop being so overdramatic. I cooked for you and Jimin almost every night I stayed with you, and I made breakfast nearly every morning, too. Stop acting like a wounded victim. You get my food all the time, too. I cook for you more than I cook for my boyfriend.”

“Wait,” Taehyung said, pushing off his seat again. “You stayed with Jimin and Jungkook, Jin? Why?”

Seokjin did not want to air his dirty laundry to anyone, even his friends. And he was still somewhat embarrassed by the mistakes he’d made over the past week. So he settled for saying, “None of that is important. Jungkook, what is important, is if you want to come to dinner tonight, you need to learn how to ask. Because you know you’re welcome, if you want, I’d just like the courtesy of you using your words.”

Jungkook gave a pleased look. “Can I come to dinner tonight?”

“Of course you can,” Seokjin replied.

“Yesssss,” Jungkook gave himself a self-congratulatory pat on the back. “So what’s for dinner?”

Seokjin had to confess, “I don’t know yet, actually. I’m open to suggestions.”

That had maybe been the wrong thing to say, in hindsight, because what came next as a slew of shouts from three different people all at once, and absolutely no consensus.

None of that mattered, however, because eventually Seokjin managed to settle on a dish to make for dinner, and an ambitious one at that. He relished in the idea of trying out something he hadn’t practiced before, and the challenge of it all propelled him through the day.

And though he’d invited Taehyung and Hoseok to dinner, Jungkook had all but invited himself along. And then Seokjin had felt terrible at the idea of Jungkook being warm and well fed in Seokjin’s apartment, while Jimin sat alone in his own, so his invitation extended to Jimin. Which, naturally, made him think of Yoongi.

With Yoongi working late with Namjoon, Seokjin hadn’t been sure if either of them would make it to dinner, but at just after seven, the food was on the table, and at least four hungry boys were digging into the offerings.

Seokjin felt his heart sore when Namjoon came through the front door not fifteen minutes after the food had been served, and with Yoongi trailing after him.

“You made it,” Seokjin said warmly, accepting a kiss from Namjoon as the man leaned a little wearily against him.

“So did everyone else, apparently,” Yoongi said, sounding impressed.

Seokjin glanced between Yoongi and Namjoon. “Hungry? I made plenty.”

Behind them, Jungkook called out, “It tastes amazing! Best ever!”

“One opinion,” Seokjin provided. “I’m open to more, however.”

Yoongi moved quickly enough to the table for a serving, and in the slight privacy they had, Namjoon gave Seokjin another kiss.

“Thank you for doing your best to make it,” Seokjin whispered to him. “And for actually making it.”

“For you,” Namjoon whispered back, “I’d do my best to move the moon.”

“Too cheesy even for you,” Seokjin declared. “Now come on, you have to be hungry.”

“Too cheesy!” Namjoon said with mock insult. “That wasn’t even my worse and you know it.”

“I know,” Seokjin agreed, not bothering to fight the big grin on his face. “But come on, come on, I want you to sit down and relax. Come get some food.”

Bluntly, Namjoon told Seokjin, “You’re too good to me. Now show me the food so I can heap praise on you. Have I mentioned lately how much I love you? Because I’m pretty sure it’s more than I could possibly explain, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Coincidentally, Seokjin had been thinking the same thing. And it was a good thought to have.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five

“Hey, do you have a second?”

Seokjin looked up from his computer screen to the sight of Jonghyun in his doorway, leaning to the side casually with his arms crossed.

“Of course,” Seokjin said, actually grateful for the distraction. He’d been only a dozen emails into the fifty or so that had accumulated in his inbox over the past week, and sorting through them was slow going. And boring. Definitely boring.

Seokjin had never really been one who enjoyed administrative work, not like Yoona who could park herself in front of her computer at eight in the morning and not move for five hours. Better yet, she looked like she was actually enjoying herself, most of the time. Seokjin preferred to be out on the floor, moving around. But even he had to check his inbox, and react accordingly.

“What’s up?” Seokjin asked, gesturing for Jonghyun to sit in any one of the spare chairs in the room.

Jonghyun closed the door behind him, giving them privacy, and then sat down.

“There a problem?” Seokjin asked warily. He’d been at the clinic for hours now, and emails, phone calls, and other administrative work had kept him from the floor completely. But he’d popped by the front a couple of times on his way to the bathroom, and then to get some tea, and everything seemed like it was going smoothly It was nice when a well-oiled machine worked flawlessly.

Jonghyun shook his head. “Absolutely not. It’s a Thursday. Things don’t go wrong this close to the weekend.”

Seokjin pointed out, “You only get to say stuff like that when you have a typical Monday through Friday job. But you’re on rotation for this weekend, both days, so that can’t mean much to you.”

Jonghyun didn’t seem put off in the slightest bit as he said, “It’s the spirit of it, Seokjin. Come on, I’m supposed to be the grumpy one.”

“You’re not grumpy at all,” Seokjin said, biting back a groan when several new emails popped into his inbox, accompanied by an irritating chime.

“That’s not what everyone else says.”

Seokjin leveled an unconvinced look. “You’re fussy, but all doctors are to a degree, honestly. And you and I have been around enough of them our entire lives, you know that’s true.”

A grin broke on Jonghyun’s face. “Speaking of doctors, we should talk about Yunho.”

“Yunho?” Seokjin hadn’t thought about him in a while. Not since the weekend event the clinic had hosted almost two weeks previous. Though he hadn’t put Yunho from his mind for any reason in particular, just simply because his life had been moving at the speed of sound, and he’d been distracted, and Yunho had been tied up with his own family business. It seemed a real shame Seokjin hadn’t been able to spend more time with Yunho over the weeks.

Especially because he wanted to tell Yunho how impressed he was with Samuel. It seemed like every day the kid got better at his job. Every day, as he continued to arrive on time at the start of each shift, he was a little less mouthy, and worked hard, and proved to be a valuable asset of the team. Yunho deserved to know the change Seokjin had seen in Samuel.

“He’s leaving on the first, remember?” Jonghyun said.

Seokjin’s eyes flew to his calendar. It was the twentieth now, so Yunho would be flying out of Korea in under two weeks. “I forgot.”

He’d also forgotten that that meant Yunho would be taking Samuel with him. Yunho had been clear from the start that Samuel was only staying in Korea for as long as Yunho was, and then he’d be taken back to the States and dropped back off with his family in California.

It felt like a betrayal in some ways, but he was certain he’d end up missing Samuel more than Yunho, though that was likely due to the fact that Seokjin saw Samuel almost every day.

“I did too,” Jonghyun confessed, “until Joy asked me this morning if I could issue her permission to access the expense account.”

“What does that have to do with Yunho?”

“Not Yunho, Samuel.” Jonghyun explained, “Samuel … okay, it hurts a little to admit how wrong I was, but the kid turned out okay. He’s got his quirks, but he’s a good kid, and he works hard. He does what he’s supposed to, and the clients like him a lot. The staff like him a lot. So I authorized Joy to buy supplies for the small little going away party we’re going to throw for him. And that made me think of Yunho.”

Seokjin teased a little, knowing better, “You want to throw Yunho a going away party?”

Jonghyun snorted. “He already got one of those. He doesn’t get another one. No, I was thinking the three of us could go out to a bar or something before he leaves. Just hang out. Have a good time.”

Amused, Seokjin pointed out, “That’s code for the two of you getting smashed, and then me having to drag each of you home because I’m the only one who’s sober.”

Jonghyun grinned so hard he had a mouth full of teeth to show for it. “You know I think it’s absolute shit that you can’t drink like the rest of us, and you have to be careful with what you mix with your meds, but hey, you can’t blame a guy for taking advantage of a situation.”

“Of course not.”

Seokjin beamed back at him, shaking his head slowly.

“Well?” Jonghyun pressed. “Can we do that? Me and you and Yunho? Before he leaves?”

It was actually a good idea. Well, maybe not the bar part, because when the three of them went out to the bar together, it generally ended with someone having to write a check for damages, and Seokjin legitimately having to drag his friends home. But Seokjin was very aware of how busy and distant Yunho had now become.  Yunho had come back to Korea just to visit family, and there was no telling when he’d be back again.

Seokjin wanted to take advantage of having Yunho there, not knowing when he’d have the opportunity again.

“Run it by him,” Seokjin suggested. “I hardly think he’ll say no to drinking, especially since you know it’ll be our treat. But get him to agree to a date, and we’ll work it into our schedules.”

Jonghyun got to his feet and laughed out, “Of course we will. You’re the boss. You make the schedule.”

Seokjin said, “Actually, I’m not doing the schedule anymore. Joy is.”

He seemed to have caught Jonghyun off guard. “She is? Why?”

Seokjin told him, “Because I honestly don’t have enough time in the day to do everything. It was fine, me shouldering all the administrative stuff and being on call here, when we were smaller. But the clinic is hurting now when I try, so I had to make a choice. And that choice was to give up some control.”

In a blatantly exaggerated way, Jonghyun gasped at his chest.

“As someone who could possibly suffer from sudden heart failure at any moment, that is not funny.” Seokjin thought he gave away how little he meant that, however, by the grin on his face. “And yes, I gave up control.”

“How much?” Jonghyun wanted to know.

“More than I thought I’d be comfortable with at first,” Seokjin revealed. “And I’ll be letting everyone know about it at the next staff meeting, but Joy’s proven herself in her time here that she’s capable of working under pressure, and she understands enough of this business to handle a lot of what I’ve been struggling to keep up with. It’s slow going right now. I’m transitioning her into all of her new duties this month, but by the end of July, she should be set to go.”

Jonghyun revealed, “I know we joked about you needing to get a personal secretary, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

Seokjin denied, “She’s not my secretary. Think of her as the clinic’s secretary.”

Jonghyun didn’t seem bothered. “Okay. If you trust her, and you think she’s going to work out, we’ll give her a try.”

Seokjin watched the expression on Jonghyun’s face carefully, and then said evenly, “You know me promoting her to this position and increasing her responsibilities doesn’t usurp your authority in any way. Right?”

Jonghyun laughed in a wry way. “Is that something you think I’m worried about?”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin said. “I just want to make it clear that you are her boss, and you’re always going to be her boss. You were with me from the start. You don’t answer to anyone.”

“Except you,” Jonghyun said with an arched eyebrow.

“I consider us equals.”

Jonghyun told him, “That’s nice and all, but you’re definitely my boss, and I’m okay with that. You’re a good boss to have.”

Seokjin felt his face heat with a flush, and Jonghyun just looked utterly too pleased with himself.

“Anyway,” Jonghyun seemed to insist, “I’m cool with anything that doesn’t disrupt business around here, and makes things easier on everyone. Though I hope you offered the position to Yoona first. Or else you’d better start running now. We had her before we had Yunho.”

Seokjin wasn’t stupid, and said, “Actually, she’s the one who suggested Joy.”

Surprised, Jonghyun asked, “She didn’t want it? She’s pretty territorial over this clinic.”

“She said she didn’t want it,” Seokjin confirmed. “She said she likes being in the front, and making the patients her first and only responsibility. And if she took on more administrative responsibilities, that would change. So she passed.”

“Wow,” Jonghyun mouthed out.

“Joy is going to do fine,” Seokjin insisted. “She’s already been doing some things that I used to, and no one seems to notice a change. So I think it’ll all be fine.”

Jonghyun said, “I’ll you know if I find out otherwise.” He quickly added, “And I’ll call up Yunho later today, okay? We’ll hammer out a date that’ll work for all of us.”

Jonghyun was almost to the door when Seokjin called out, “Jonghyun … wait …”

He’d wanted to say something for days, but hadn’t seemed to find the courage until that very moment.

“Something else?”

Seokjin got up from his seat slowly.  “I … I didn’t want to push, or overstep but …”

Jonghyun, to his credit, waited patiently.

And eventually, Seokjin got out, “I wanted to ask how you and Kibum were doing. Since Yebin.”

A little defensively, Jonghyun pointed out, “She wasn’t our daughter. It’s not like we lost our kid.”

“No,” Seokjin agreed. “But she was someone you’d formed a bond with, and cared for, and didn’t want to give up.”

Jonghyun was quiet for a moment, then told Seokjin, “Key didn’t want me to throw any of the stuff we bought for Yebin away ultimately. I thought he was going to do it the day we gave her up, but that wasn’t what happened at all. And he got mad when I tried.”

“So you didn’t?”

“Of course I didn’t,” Jonghyun said in a frustrated way. “I’m not going to make him even more upset. So if he wants to keep all that useless stuff, he can keep it.”

“Maybe it’s useless right now,” Seokjin suggested. “But it might not be in the future.”

At least that, Jonghyun didn’t deny.

“Anyway,” the man said instead, “we’re fine. We’re doing fine.”

Seokjin held his tongue for a second, then said, “How about you invite Kibum along for drinks with us and Yunho? He and Yunho are friends, and I think it’s been ages since he’s seen him. Plus, it’ll be a nice distraction. Is he hanging around Seoul for the next couple of weeks?”

“I’ll talk to him,” Jonghyun promised, and then he was pulling open the door to Seokjin’s office. “But you know what a lush he is. He’d never pass up an opportunity for a martini.”

There was a smile pulling at Jonghyun’s face, then, and it eased so much tension in the room.

“Hey,” Seokjin said easily, “you don’t talk about my friend like that.”

Jonghyun gave him a passing wave, and then disappeared through the door.

And that left Seokjin alone, with his unanswered emails.

He hadn’t even finished getting through all of his digital mail, let alone the physical kind that was sitting in a stack on the edge of his desk, by the time he went to take his break. But he did make progress sometime after that. It took shutting his office door to block out the sounds that were too distracting, in order to get all his work done, but he did manage it.

And then he was able to reward himself with hitting the clinic floor, writing his name in for walk-ins, and going in search of his first patient.

“You’ve got mail,” Yoona called out to him as he picked up the clipboard in the front of him.

Seokjin scanned the details displayed on the white sheet clipped to it, and asked in an unenthused way, “More mail? No way.”

Yoona laughed airily. “I know. It’s hard to believe, but you get mail every day.”

Yoona was seated fairly close to him, and she wasn’t helping anyone at the moment, so Seokjin let himself drift closer to her. “Mail for me or mail for the clinic in general?” It got shuffled together at times, but that was a pet peeve of Seokjin’s. There was a major difference, and a necessary one, between the electricity bill for the clinic, and a patient of his sending him an invitation to a christening, or first birthday, or they type of events Seokjin often found himself invited to.

“Both, actually,” Yoona reported. “I haven’t had time to sort through it yet, and I will, don’t make that face, but this is just a head’s up.”

“Thanks,” Seokjin told her.

She was turned back to her computer, the phone ringing, before she caught herself and swung back. “Oh, I almost forgot. You got a package, too.”

“A package?”

Yoona nodded and palmed the size, which was probably the size of a basketball. “I put it next to your mail box, because it wouldn’t fit in.” She picked up the phone then, and took the call.

Curiosity got the best of Seokjin before he could help himself. And the time stamped on the sheet attached to the clipboard indicated the patient had been waiting in the lobby for less than twenty minutes. He had time to spare.

All the staff at the clinic had dedicated mail boxes. Some employees, like Moonbin, got next to nothing in the span of a month, but others like Eunwoo, who split his duties between the clinic and another hospital, received a good deal. Seokjin got the most by far, but Jonghyun also got quite a lot. Still, they were doctors, not rockstars or lawyers or any profession that constituted huge amounts of mail, so the mail area of the clinic was relatively small. A package of any kind was definitely not going to fit in anyone’s mail slot.

But like Yoona had said, there was a package a little smaller than a basketball, wrapped in plain brown paper, sitting next to the rows of mail slots. It looked so astoundingly average that until Seokjin got closer, he couldn’t begin to figure out where it had come from.

Frowning, Seokjin picked up the package, and was surprised that it was lighter than he’d expected—in fact it felt like it weighed nothing. He turned it over as he weighed it, and then looked at the writing on top. There wasn’t anything labeled on the package, indicating its origin, but there was a return address that had been written out by hand. Seokjin didn’t recognize the name or address.

“Weighs basically nothing, right?” Samuel asked, coming behind Seokjin with a mop and bucket. He still had gloves covering his hands and a mouth mask down around his neck. The bucket smelled like vomit, so it didn’t take much to determine what Samuel had been cleaning up.

But Seokjin only let himself be distracted for a second by the bucket, before asking, “How do you know how much this weighs?”

Samuel, with a bounce in his step, said, “I’m the one who brought the mail in, before this little kid in the waiting room nerfed all over his sister. Man, sometimes I really feel like I’m missing out, being an only child.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm by the end.

“You say that now,” Seokjin laughed a little, “assuming you’d be the one tormenting your sister. But with siblings it’s easily a two-way road.”

Samuel shrugged in likely agreement. “I guess. And if I had any siblings I’d have to share, right? That would suck.”

“It’s not so bad,” Seokjin said, thinking of Jungkook. He had no doubt there were terrible siblings out there, the kind that didn’t get along, and weren’t kind to each other, and were downright impossible to deal with. Maybe Seokjin had just hit the lottery with Jungkook. But as far as he was concerned, Jungkook was the best kind of sibling, and Seokjin felt privileged to be his brother.

And thinking of Jungkook, honestly, made Seokjin think of his sister sometimes. He had so few memories of her, and hardly even remembered what she looked like. He had pictures of her, of course, all the pictures his father had hidden away after their family’s loss. But Seokjin meant the kind of remembrance that came from recalling a particular way someone walked, or smelled, or talked, or their habits.

When it came to her, Seokjin remembered almost nothing. But he liked to think that she’d been a good sister, and if they’d all grown up together, the three of them would have been as close as just he and Jungkook were.

Though there was a part of him that only figured he and Jungkook were so close because of what had happened.

In any case, it seemed pointless to make guesses about what could have been, and Seokjin could be content in the relationship he had with his brother currently.

Samuel was giving a heft push to the mop and bucket to keep going, when Seokjin asked him, “So this came in with the mail today?”

“I carried it in myself,” Samuel said.

Seokjin shook the box a little. Whatever the thing inside was, it slid around without giving its identity away.

“I tried that too,” Samuel said.

Of course he had.

“Who’s it from?” Samuel asked. He peered down at the top of the box. “Who’s Kim Mikyung?”

Seokjin only shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know anyone by that name.” And the address on the top of the box gave nothing away. He could place the neighborhood out of Bangtan’s jurisdiction, and to one of the poorest neighborhoods in Seoul, but that told him nothing.

“You get mail often from people you don’t know?”

“Maybe not by name,” Seokjin admitted. “I see a lot of people in a month, and some of them send me thank you cards, or small tokens of appreciation, and I don’t know them all off the top of my head.”

This felt different, though. This wasn’t a simple thank you card.

“Well,” Samuel said in an excited way, “open it then. Find out who it’s from.”

Seokjin wanted nothing more than to sate his curiosity. But the package and the rest of the mail would have to wait. He had patients to see.

“When I’ve got time,” Seokjin said with a resigned sigh. But maybe later than normal. He was curious to see what was inside the package, but it was more than likely from a patient, and that made Seokjin uncomfortable. All that he needed from a patient was for them to be happy and healthy. He didn’t know how to accept gifts, or if he even should. But then he worried about rejecting a gift, and hurting someone’s feelings.

It was a mess he preferred to avoid. It was why the clinic heavily preferred that any appreciation be made in the way of charitable donations in the clinic’s name.

“Hey, do me a favor?” Seokjin asked, setting the package down. “After you finish with the mop, move the package to my office?”

Samuel said easily, “Sure. But you’re seriously not going to open it?”

“I’ve got patients to see,” Seokjin said, hefting up his clipboard. The patient had now been waiting roughly twenty-five minutes. And the sheet of paper said the man, in his early twenties, had come to the clinic due to an ache in his joints, a low-grade fever, and fainting spells. Seokjin had no way of knowing if any of the symptoms were connected, but he aimed to find out.

Samuel pushed the mop down the hallway and called out to him, “You have the self control of a saint, Doctor Kim!”

Seokjin thought it had a lot more to do with anxiety, and a lot less with self control.

The package, and all the other mail, was gone from his mind soon enough. And then the only thing that mattered were the patients.

For Seokjin, it was the best kind of work day, because time flew by, he felt especially productive, and there were no issues. And by the time Seokjin was locking the front door, all of the patients for the day taken care of, he was exactly on time.

“Can we tempt you into going out with us tonight?” Moonbin asked as he unclipped his employee badge and shouldered his bag. Behind him Krystal was tapping something out on her phone. Moonbin added, “Jessica and Eunwoo are going to meet us at the bar for drinks, but there’s always room for one more. Or two? I’ve heard tales of your boyfriend, and so I’m more than a little curious to meet him.”

“Careful,” Seokjin warned Moonbin. “I’ve been drinking before with both the Jung sisters, and don’t let their small stature fool you. Each of them could drink a platoon of army vets under the table.”

Krystal flashed him a devilish grin. “You only had to learn that once, didn’t you?”

Seokjin agreed, “Once was enough.”

He recalled quite vividly that as soon as Krystal and Jessica had realized he was absolutely no match for them, they’d taken to challenging the other patrons in the bar to bets involving money and alcohol. And naturally, after they’d beaten practically everyone in the bar, they’d turned on each other.

Never again, he’d promised himself after going out with them. Never again.

“I’m not really a drinker,” Moonbin chuckled out. “But Eunwoo wants to go, and I like my coworkers more than enough to spend my free time with them.”

“Come on,” Krystal said, shouldering past Moonbin. “Let’s leave Doctor Wet Blanket to his own devices and have some fun.”

Seokjin called after her, “You have a consult tomorrow morning!”

“I know!” Krystal called back with a wink. “At ten. That’s plenty of time from now until then.”

If Seokjin didn’t know what kind of doctor she was, the might have worried at least a little. But he did know Krystal as a doctor. He knew what kind of stark professionalism she exuded when she was working, and he knew he could trust her with the patients.

“Have fun,” Seokjin told them as they were leaving. And then he was alone in the clinic.

Seokjin, when he was the last one out, always had a routine. He didn’t think that was such an unexpected thing, considering he had routines about practically everything. But when he closed up and was the last one out the clinic doors at night, he liked to start at the top, on the third floor of the clinic, and work his way down.

It was important to him to check every floor, every room, and make sure that things were exactly the way they were supposed to be. Seokjin had certainly been called a control freak before, and he wasn’t always one to deny it.

He was doing a final sweep through the first and final floor, when his phone in his pocket rang.

“Hi,” he said fondly, after reading Namjoon’s name on the screen.

“Hi, you,” Namjoon replied back, warmth in his voice. “How was your day?”

Seokjin had it in him to be the sentimental kind of boyfriend who called Namjoon every hour on the hour. And it honestly wouldn’t have been creepy or odd for them, because despite the issues they’d had recently, they were still absolutely floating in some honeymoon phase. Seokjin was starting to think they’d never get out of it. And it made them crave each other, even just to talk, at all times.

The only thing that held Seokjin back from being that needy kind of boyfriend, was both of their jobs and the time restraints that came with them. Seokjin simply didn’t have the time to sit around and call Namjoon just to ask him how his day was going, and Namjoon hardly ever had his phone on him during the day, when something serious was happening.

And serious things seemed to be happening all the time now.

“Fine,” Seokjin said. “Normal, which is nice for a change.”

Over the phone line, Namjoon chuckled, “Careful, don’t jinx yourself.”

“That’s hardly bound to happen now that it’s after ten. The clinic is closed, and I’m coming home soon.” He opened the bathroom door and flipped on the lights, double checking that it was empty.

Some might call him obsessive, but Seokjin had once had the alarm in the clinic go off at almost midnight. He’d nearly had a heart attack, quite literally, thinking that he was being robbed. Of course, naturally, he hadn’t been, and someone had simply fallen asleep in the clinic, in the corner of the waiting room that wasn’t particularly well lit, and no one had seen him even after they’d locked up and left.

Seokjin was currently trying to get the cops on his side, and having them called out to the clinic for anything but a serious emergency, was something he desperately wanted to avoid.

“Where are you?” Seokjin asked, unclipping his own employee badge as he made his way back to the front of the clinic. “Home?” He added the last word hopefully.

“No,” Namjoon said, crushing that hope immediately. “It’s going to be a late night. So, you’re definitely leaving right now? Like you’re about to walk out the front door?”

Seokjin came to a standstill, eyes narrowing. “Namjoon?”

Namjoon didn’t respond, and that was just as telling as the words that had come before.

“Namjoon?” Seokjin said again, a little more roughly. “What’s going on?”

This time, Namjoon did speak, if only to say, “You always freak out when I tell you not to freak out, so I’m not going to tell you not to do that. But I need you not to freak out.”

Seokjin put his badge down, undid the button on his white doctor’s coat, and shed it a little awkwardly as he tried to hold onto the phone. “Tell me right now what’s going on.”

Namjoon almost rushed to say, “Jungkook’s coming to pick you up, okay? Don’t leave your clinic until he gets there.”

Seokjin was very smart. He didn’t think that was bragging to say, because he’d studied hard when he was younger, and continued to improve his knowledge day in and day out as much as possible. He’d always been a little gifted in terms of memory retention, too, so calling himself smart felt authentic.

But being intelligent, or book smart, obviously meant he had little to no survival instinct, because at Namjoon’s words, he was going straight to one of the front windows.

He expected to see a mostly empty street, and that was what he got. It was late at night, and this part of town was more business oriented than residential. So there were cars going past, but not stopping. And there were a couple of cars parked along the road, but not many, and all of them had been there for hours at a time.

“You’re standing in front of a window, aren’t you?” Namjoon asked faintly.

“What’s wrong with going outside?” Seokjin asked.

“Maybe nothing,” Namjoon told him. “Maybe everything.”

Shivers crawled across Seokjin’s skin. “Define everything.”

“I don’t want to freak you out.”

“You’re kind of freaking me out now,” Seokjin said, looking again to the street. It still looked normal. It still looked like nothing was out of place.

“Just … just stay inside, okay? Jungkook is less than five minutes away. Don’t go outside until you see him. And then when you get in the car with him, you’re not going to go home, okay? You’re going to go to a different location for the night.”

Now Seokjin was absolutely freaked out.

 “You need to tell me,” he said, trying to sound as tempered as possible, “exactly what’s going on. Should I be expecting trouble to come strolling through my door right now?”

Sharply, Namjoon asked, “Excuse me? Are your doors not locked? It’s after ten.”

“They’re locked.” He could hear Namjoon’s sigh of relief. “Namjoon. Joon. Tell me.”

Of the millions of things he could have expected, or even found acceptable to come next, Namjoon saying, “Hoya isn’t in jail anymore,” was not one of them.

Seokjin leaned a hand up against the window, feeling nothing but utter disbelief. “Excuse me? He’s not in jail anymore?”

Namjoon seemed to be rushing to say, “The police are keeping this information on lockdown, and it probably won’t get out until tomorrow morning, but Hoya is officially missing. They were transporting him today, and I don’t know what happened, but he was there one second, gone the next.”

Seokjin sputtered out, “What the hell are the police doing keeping that under lock and key? They need to tell everyone they can. They need to have everyone, including the general public, on the lookout.”

“You and I know that,” Namjoon told him, “but the police are more interested in saving face right now, than saving lives, apparently. Jin, your father tore that police department to shreds when he found out most of them were on Infinite’s payroll. He got a lot of them fired and exposed the corruption to the general public. The police are doing double duty trying to save their image right now. So imagine how it’s going to go down with said general public when they have to announce that they lost a major criminal like Hoya? They’re not gonna do it. Not when they think they have a chance of finding him and getting him back before anyone knows.”

At the idea of Hoya being out there, potentially being anywhere near the clinic, Seokjin stepped back from the window. He stepped far back. “How do you know he’s out?”

Namjoon reminded, “V’s got informants in the police, remember? None of his guys were associated with Infinite, so they all made it through the storm, and they’re good at relaying information to us. They leaked this to V, and he told me. Because …”

Because, Seokjin assumed, Hoya was probably carrying a massive grudge over what Seokjin had done to him. It might have been Bangtan and Exo that waged war on Infinite, but Seokjin had been the one to actually take Hoya down. And before that had even happened, Seokjin had played a part in helping Bangtan with Infinite.

If Seokjin were Hoya, he’d be coming for him.

“He just went missing?” Seokjin asked again, in disbelief.

“Not on his own,” Namjoon said, and now he sounded angry. “Even V’s guys are really unclear as to how Hoya gave the police the slip, but he absolutely had help from the inside, and that is very, very bad. So I need you to stay inside, until Jungkook gets there, and go to a special safe house tonight while our guys vet the area at our house, and make sure it’s completely safe.”

The more Seokjin thought about it, the more certain he was that he was going to be at the top of Hoya’s list. Hoya was probably even going to blame him for Sunggyu's death.

But as worried as he was for himself, he was more worried for Namjoon. Seokjin had a target on his back, but Namjoon would always have the bigger one. Namjoon would always be the prized fish to catch.

“Are you somewhere safe?” he asked, clamping down on the urge to make a mad dash to his car and drive to where ever Namjoon was.  He was terrified of presenting himself as a target, if Hoya was out there, but he was more terrified of Namjoon being in danger.

Without preamble, Namjoon quelled his nerves, saying, “I’m fine, I promise you. I’m with J-Hope and Suga right now. We’re running down all the leads we have to Hoya’s location right now.”

Seokjin wondered, “So you’re just being overprotective with sending Jungkook out here to me, then? You think he might be going somewhere else, potentially?”

“We’re considering our options. If I was Hoya, I’d be coming for you. I think you can agree. But Suga thinks we need to seriously consider Hoya is going straight to meet up with Myungsoo, who’s probably responsible for busting him out in the first place.”

If Jungkook was on the way, and probably speeding to get there, Seokjin moved quickly to gather up his things. He didn’t like the idea of Jungkook sitting outside the clinic, presenting himself as an easy target.

“Then you’re not coming home tonight,” Seokjin guessed. “Or to the safehouse.”

Namjoon only sighed.

“You know I don’t like this,” Seokjin said quietly. “I don’t like the idea of you out there, putting yourself in danger.”

“That’s all I ever do,” Namjoon told him. “It just feels worse because we’re talking about Hoya here, and that means dragging up the painful past.”

Namjoon was right. Of course he was right. Seokjin knew, no matter if there was peace or war, Namjoon’s position meant he was going to be on the front lines.

“Can you just be extra careful?” Seokjin said, hating how he sounded like he was pleading. “I know you promise me all the time you’ll be careful but, promise me again, and mean it this time.”

Gently, Namjoon murmured, “I always mean it. But yes, I promise you, extra promise you, I will be as careful as humanly possible. Both Suga and J-Hope are here right now, watching my back, so if that can make you feel a little better, let it.”

Seokjin nearly jumped out of his skin when a honk sounded loudly from outside.

Namjoon demanded right away, anxiety flush in his voice, “Was that a car horn? Jin, check who it is, but be careful.”

“It’s Jungkook,” Seokjin said just seconds later. “And he … oh, god, I’m going to kill him.”

“What?” Namjoon asked.

Jungkook honked again, and Seokjin told Namjoon as he grabbed his things and hurried to the front door, “You’re about to be down a man, because I will have strangled Jungkook to death. He’s not parked next to the curb in front of the clinic, because apparently he just decided that was too much of a normal thing to do. No, he’s driven up on the sidewalk, taken out half the greenery that was there, and he’s now essentially idling on my front lawn.”

Seokjin exited the clinic as fast as he could, relocking the door behind him after setting the security system, and jogging to the car.

Namjoon swore on the phone, “I will replace every bit of damage he just did.”

“About time,” Jungkook said testily when Seokjin got in the passenger seat. “I was about to come in there.”

Seokjin dumped his things on the floorboard of the car and told Namjoon, “I need to go now, I have a little brother to strangle.”

“Be safe, I love you,” Namjoon said quickly, and then the call was ending.

“Jin, I’m serious,” Jungkook cut in.

But no, he wasn’t serious. Seokjin knew that tone of voice all too well. Jungkook wasn’t serious, he was scared.

“Let’s go,” Seokjin prompted. “Or did you want to park permanently on my lawn?”

Jungkook didn’t give any kind of apology as he tore off back down the street, getting asphalt under the tires instead of grass.

“Jungkook!”

“Is your seatbelt on?” Jungkook asked abruptly.

Seokjin reached pointedly for his seatbelt, snapping it on. “It is now. So calm down.”

“Calm down?” Jungkook looked towards him for just a moment, then back to the road. “You want me to calm down considering the situation at hand?”

“I do,” Seokjin told him, “because from what Namjoon just told me, there’s a very strong possibility that Hoya is on his way to meet up with Myungsoo, and you’re here acting like he’s in the back seat.”

Jungkook gripped the wheel to the car tightly. “That’s not something to joke about.”

Kinder now, Seokjin said, “You need to breathe, and get it together.”

Jungkook grit his teeth at Seokjin’s words, and Seokjin almost wanted to take them back. Because he didn’t think he’d be any calmer than Jungkook was at the moment, if their situation was reversed. If it were Jungkook in any kind of potential danger from someone very angry, very capable, and very vengeful?

“I am calm,” Jungkook managed to say a couple minutes later. He cut through the streets of Seoul like butter with the thinned traffic aiding him, and Seokjin had no clue where they were going. Except he could definitely tell they weren’t headed further into the city, where Seokjin’s apartment was. Instead they were heading to the fringe of the city.

“Jungkook? Where is this safehouse at?”

“Nowon-gu,” Jungkook said. “Have you been to that one before?”

Seokjin shook his head He’d been to a couple of the safe houses before, mostly because Namjoon wanted him familiar with them if the worst happened, but he hadn’t been up to Nowon-gu district for a long time. He hadn’t needed a reason to. And it was a long way from where the clinic was located. Seokjin hadn’t even been certain Nowon-gu was still Bangtan’s territory.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook assured. “Actually, it’s one of the nicer places. It’s furnished. You’ll be good there for the night.”

“We will,” Seokjin corrected.

They hit a red light and Jungkook turned to him. “We? Jin, I don’t think—”

“We,” Seokjin corrected, unwilling to compromise. “I’m dead serious about this, Jungkook. I can’t keep Namjoon from being out there. It’s not fair of me to ask. And it probably isn’t fair for me to ask it of you, either. So I’m not going to ask. I will go to this safehouse, if you want. But I’m only going to stay there if you are too.”

“Jin,” Jungkook groaned. “Come on. Cut the protective big brother routine. I’m not your brother in this situation. I’m a member of Bangtan. And I want to be out there anyway, finding Hoya before he can hurt you or anyone else.”

Seokjin graced him with an extremely fake smile. “I don’t care what you want, Jungkook. You are my brother no matter what, and I’m not going to sit on my hands while you’re putting yourself in danger. If Hoya is coming for someone, he’s probably coming for me. But you’re completely oblivious if you don’t think Hoya won’t gun you down just to get at me. And yes, I’m very confident he’ll know you on sight.”

Jungkook let off the brake as the light changed, and he told Seokjin, “You know, this is what Rap Mon was always worried about. This position. Me and you and Bangtan.”

Seokjin steadied himself and said, “I don’t really give a damn what Namjoon thinks of all this. You are my brother and I will piss you off—I’ll piss anyone off, in order to keep you safe. Do you get that? I’m not budging from this. Either you stay, or I won’t either.”

They drove a few more blocks, traffic getting even more thin, and Jungkook said, “You need to call him.”

Seokjin hardly thought that was a tactic that would work. “I already told you, it doesn’t matter to me what Namjoon thinks of this whole situation. I told him a long time ago what I’ll tell you now. I will never put anyone ahead of you. Including him or Bangtan.”

“No, Jin.”

“I mean it.”

“Jin!”

There was something in Jungkook’s voice that worried him. “What is it?”

Evenly, but tensely, Jungkook ordered, “You need to get on the phone and call Rap Mon.”

Carefully, Seokjin asked, “Why?”

It was only then that Seokjin could see Jungkook watching his rearview mirror more than the street in front of him.

“I think,” Jungkook said slowly, in a worried way, “we’re being followed.”

Seokjin turned a little in his seat, just enough that he could look behind him.

There was a car behind them for certain, and a big SUV at that. And it was following far closer than it needed to be.

“Don’t panic,” Seokjin said, getting his phone back in his hand. “There are people who just drive like jerks out there. Try switching lanes.”

Jungkook moved one lane to the right, and the SUV followed.

“We’re definitely being followed,” Jungkook said certainly, looking worried in a way Seokjin had never seen before.

Seokjin couldn’t help saying once more, “It’s going to be okay. Just don’t panic—”

He’d meant to say more. He’d meant to encourage Jungkook a little more, and to bolster his confidence, but the rest of his words were cut off as he smashed forward. His seatbelt cut him hard across the chest and Jungkook cursed loudly.

 “Did they just ram us?” Seokjin demanded, voice peaking.

Jungkook shouted, “Can we panic now?”

The SUV pushed up against them again, causing Jungkook to nearly lose control of the car. They swerved to the side, Jungkook fighting the wheel.

“Okay,” Seokjin agreed, gripping his seatbelt hard. “We can panic now.”

That seemed an understatement.

“Make the call,” Jungkook ordered, hitting the gas hard.

Seokjin was way ahead of him.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six

“This is bad. This is so bad.”

That seemed to be Jungkook’s running mantra as they raced down the quiet streets of Seoul, away from the busy epicenter, and towards the less populated areas. Seokjin could see how tightly Jungkook was gripping the wheel as he struggled to keep them from being hit again by the SUV behind them, and there was sweat beading along his forehead.

“Just focus on the road,” Seokjin coached, his fingers fumbling their way on the phone, hitting the wrong contact number several times. “You can do this.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook said tensely, “for the vote of confidence, but we’re one hit away from getting spun out. So no more cheerleading, okay? Get my boss on the phone so we can get some backup.”

Behind them the black SUV giving chase veered to the right, to Seokjin’s side of the car, and hit the gas hard. It was pulling alongside them in just a moment more, but the tinted windows made it impossible for Seokjin to see who was driving.

“This is not how I thought this day was going to end,” Jungkook babbled out, swerving to the side to avoid hitting a car that was parked at a red light. Jungkook flew through the light without a second of hesitation, and Seokjin’s stomach leapt up into his throat.

Someone was going to get killed. They were going to hit someone and kill someone.

Oh god.

Seokjin thought immediately of the car accident that had taken the lives of his mother and sister. They’d been stopped at a red light at night. They’d been adhering to the rules of the road when another car had smashed into them.

Seokjin couldn’t handle the idea of them taking the things from others, that they themselves had lost so many years ago. He couldn’t be that person who stole a life.

“You need to slow down,” Seokjin urged, feeling the sudden need to vomit. They were going to hit someone and kill someone’s mother, or sister.

“Slow down?” Jungkook screeched. “Are you serious? You can’t be serious.”

“I’m dead serious,” Seokjin snapped out. “You are going to—”

Jungkook shouted around him, taking a corner hard to avoid the SUV that looked like it had been gearing up to sideswipe them, “—not going to slow down because if I do, I kind of have a strong feeling that we’re going to be dead!”

“Jungkook!” Seokjin braced a hand up against the door as he fumbled his phone down to the ground. “I can’t—”

Jungkook’s voice was raw and piercing as he screamed, “Jin! Get down!”

Seokjin ducked down instinctively, the sound of Jungkook’s voice enough to jar him into action.

It seemed he’d followed directions with just a moment to spare, because his passenger side window shattered into a million pieces as bullets pierced the glass. Seokjin screamed, Jungkook swerved, and they nearly rolled.

“What the hell!” Seokjin said, head still ducked down, Jungkook trying to get control of the car.

“Gun!” Jungkook shouted, the wind now blowing hard into the car. “I saw the window go down and there was a gun!”

“Why are they shouting at us?” Seokjin demanded. Glass fell down around him, and he tried to shake it out of his hair without getting cut up.

Jungkook urged, “They clearly want to kill us! That’s why!”

This was a mess. This was …

Seokjin got his bearings. His mind was racing, his heart was pounding, and he did his best to slow each one down. He and Jungkook were dead meat if he didn’t get control of the situation back again. They were racing through the streets of Seoul, barely missing other cars, and now someone was shooting at them. There was no way this ended well for them, if Seokjin couldn’t get it together.

And this was his little brother in the car. This was the person he’d always sworn to protect, regardless of what their roles in life were now. He was not going to fall to pieces in a panic and let anything happen to Jungkook. He wasn’t going to let anyone get away with hurting Jungkook.

Jungkook, in an impressive way, bought them down a small alleyway that the big SUV was too large to fit through. He knocked off his sideview mirror to get them down it and the paint on the car was absolutely ruined, but it gave them precious seconds to get themselves together while the SUV went around.

“Does this car have cruise control?” Seokjin asked. Being in an alley, even at the speed they were going, made it so he didn’t have to shout as loud.

Looking confused, Jungkook asked, “What?”

Steadily, Seokjin repeated, “Does this car have cruise control?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook answered. “How is that important with what’s happening right now?”

The alleyway was ending just ahead of them, and when they emerged onto the next street, Seokjin could see the SUV behind them, gaining fast.

“Put the cruise control on,” Seokjin ordered, taking off his seat belt.

“Excuse me?” Jungkook demanded. “My driving is the only thing saving us right now. We’re dead if I put the cruise control on.”

Seokjin’s fingers found Jungkook’s seatbelt and released it as well.

“Just do what I say,” Seokjin said firmly, instituting the big brother voice he hardly ever used. “We need the cruise control on for the next thirty seconds, because I’m going to hold the wheel, and you’re going to get in the back seat.”

Jungkook’s jaw fell open.

“No offense,” Seokjin said, giving Jungkook a wink, “but you’ve been driving seven months. I’m a much better driver than you, and you’re right, driving is what’s saving us right now.”

In an affronted way, Jungkook asked, “So you want me to give you the wheel and get in the backseat and just hide?”

“No,” Seokjin said, pulling at Jungkook’s sleeve, “I want you to get in to the back seat so you have a better spot to shoot from.”

Again, Jungkook’s jaw dropped. It seemed like he’d barely had time to pick it up the first time. “You … are you actually telling me to shoot people?”

Seokjin had seen him do it before. That day in the convenience store, when Seokjin’s heart had stopped, he’d seen Jungkook firing his gun with every intent to kill. He’d been scared then, scared of Jungkook, and scared of how easily Jungkook was shooting. But Seokjin wasn’t scared now. Or rather, he was more scared to lose Jungkook than anything else.

“Move!” Seokjin shouted, practically heaving Jungkook out of the driver’s seat. Seokjin held the wheel tightly, and the second Jungkook dumped into the back seat, he slid in. Jungkook and he were thankfully still close enough in height that he didn’t need to adjust the seat at all. He buckled himself in, flipped off the cruise control, and hit the gas as hard as he could.

“Holy shit, Jin!” Jungkook toppled around in the back before righting himself. “Do you have some secret profession I should know about?”

Seokjin was no race car driver and he certainly didn’t want to pretend to be with his and Jungkook’s lives on the line. But he knew for a fact he was a better, more confident driver than Jungkook. And he truly did need Jungkook to be doing other things.

He shouted into the back as the SUV was nearly close enough to touch them, “You have your gun, right?”

“Never leave home without it!” Jungkook retrieved it from the back of his pants. Seokjin hated the sight of it, but it was maybe going to save their lives, so he was willing to let his own personal feelings on the matter go.

Instead Seokjin tried to focus on the road, and not the SUV behind them. The SUV didn’t matter. All that mattered was keeping then on four wheels, as safe as possible, and going towards somewhere Seokjin knew was safe.

Because now that he was driving, he wasn’t going towards the safehouse that Jungkook had been. He didn’t even know specifically where that safe house was. Instead he was taking them out of the packed city streets and towards some place he knew that they’d draw the right kind of attention.

Namjoon always said half the way to victory in any battle were the tools at one’s disposal, and Seokjin fully planned to use all his tools.

“So let me be clear,” Jungkook said, head going close to Seokjin’s so he didn’t have to shout to be heard, “you’re literally giving me permission to shoot people, right?”

The cracking of gunfire filled the air and Seokjin heard the crunching of metal.

“I’m not telling you to shoot at people,” Seokjin told him tersely, taking a corner quickly and breaking hard enough to smoke the tires. He couldn’t help thinking that if Jungkook had been a little more grounded, and hadn’t chosen such a luxury car, and bought a manual instead, maneuvering the car would have been a lot easier than the automatic engine he had to work with.

“You’re sending mixed signals here.”

Seokjin cut across streets in an unorganized way with pinpoint accuracy, honing in on the road, and thinking of nothing but the goal.

“Really mixed signals!”

“I really don’t think I am,” Seokjin cut back. “Do not shoot people!  Shoot those tires out.”

Just like Seokjin’s previous window had shattered, the back window splintered with a series of bullet holes.

“Goddamnit!” Jungkook swore loudly. “This is my car you bastards!”

Jungkook lunged towards the back window and used his jacket covered elbow to smash out the destroyed glass.

“I hope you have insurance,” Seokjin said, feeling a spike of relief when he recognized a nearby street. His street cross cutting, rather than going in straight line, had been a bit of a gamble considering he wasn’t overly familiar with the part of town he was in now. But he’d ended up almost right where he wanted to be.

“Maybe not this much,” Jungkook confessed, and then Seokjin nearly jerked the wheel of the car in surprise when Jungkook began firing.

In action movies, the obligatory car chase scene was always Seokjin’s favorite part. Namjoon was an absolute romantic at heart, so he tended to like the slower moments in movies, but Seokjin lived a bit vicariously through the events he saw in movies, and there was a reason he enjoyed the Fast and Furious movies.

But this? This was nothing like what he’d thought a car chase might feel like. It was a lot less fun, a lot more petrifying, and unlike the chases in movies, this felt like it had real weight. Seokjin felt like they could be killed at any second, or kill someone.

No, Seokjin was not going to be responsible for killing anyone else. That was why he was driving, and not Jungkook.

He tried to stay focused on the road, but the sound of Jungkook’s gun was like a cannon in his ear, and it was distracting to say the least.

“Hold the car still,” Jungkook told him, leveled up in the back seat on his knees as he aimed in an unflinching way. Seokjin tried to follow directions, understanding what a target Jungkook was currently making himself in order to line up a perfect shot.

But to the side, down on the floorboard, Seokjin could see his phone, and that was now all he could see. His phone. He’d never gotten to make the call to Namjoon on it.

“Take this you asshole!” Jungkook shouted as his gun discharged and the SUV swerved to the side. Jungkook ducked back down in the back seat, and tapped Seokjin on the side.  “I’m out of ammo. Can you open the glove box and get more?’

Incredulously, Seokjin asked, “You keep handgun ammo in your glovebox?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said with a youthful grin, “right next to my chemistry notecards.”

Jungkook could have been joking about that, but the second Seokjin popped the glove box down he could see two magazines of bullets resting on top of a stack of white note cards.

Of course Jungkook had been telling the truth. Of course.

Seokjin handed him both cartridges and then put both hands back on the wheel. He asked, “You’re shooting the wheels, right? And not the people?”

Jungkook was quiet.

“I told you—” Seokjin started.

“The car’s bullet proof anyway,” Jungkook stated, pulling himself back up to shoot again. “I have to shoot the tires, so we both win, okay?”

“Jungkook,” Seokjin growled out, but then he hunched down as their car was shot at again, and bullets made contact with metal.

Seokjin did not want to end up bleeding out in his little brother’s car. And he couldn’t handle the idea that Jungkook could end up the one shot.

“You are getting a manual transmission in your next car!” Seokjin grumbled to him in frustration. He’d never forgive himself if either of them was hurt because of an automatic transmission instead of a more pliant manual.

“Who drives a manual anymore?” Jungkook questioned. “They don’t even make this car in a manual!”

Seokjin shoved down the need to lecture Jungkook about the benefits of a manual transmission, and instead made himself focus back on the road.

And there, right in front of him, sinking all his hopes, was a pile of traffic.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” Jungkook said, likely spotting the traffic as well.

“Sit back,” Seokjin ordered. “Put your seat belt on.”

“Where are you taking us?” Jungkook demanded. “We’re not anywhere near the safehouse.”

“I’m not going to the safehouse,” Seokjin told him. “And put your seat belt on now.”

He could hear Jungkook grumbling, but a second later he heard the sound of a click.

Seokjin hedged, despite the bullets that had been flying at them for what felt like forever now, that whoever was in the black SUV, as mildly aware of where they were now, and weren’t going to plow into the back of Jungkook’s car and cause a pileup.

He hunch was proven as Seokjin swerved the car to the left, and the SUV got caught up in the traffic to the right, two lanes over for them.

“Jin?” Jungkook asked warily.

Seokjin caught his eyes through the rearview mirror and told Jungkook, “You will never, ever tell anyone I know how to do this. You will never, ever, speak of this again.”

Before Jungkook could question anything, Seokjin saw the traffic in front of them letting up. There was a popular avenue up ahead, which mean most of the cars would be peeling off in either direction, and Seokjin would either have to endanger those people, or take them further down the street they were on, with the SUV poised to take them out at any second.

Except Seokjin wasn’t going to do anything the SUV would even some close to expecting.

“Jiiinnnn!” Jungkook yelled as Seokjin threw the car into reverse, pushing down on the gas hard. There was no one behind them, but who knew how long that would last. Seokjin wanted to take advantage of the situation presenting itself asap.

“Quiet!” Seokjin shouted back, turned in his seat as he drove the car backwards.

Clear. Clear. The road was clear.

When the car hit an appropriate amount of speed, Seokjin jerked the wheel counter-clockwise, whipping the car itself around. The car wobbled for a second as Seokjin tried to keep control, and Jungkook screamed in the back seat. But then he had the control he’d been fighting for, and he slammed the car into drive.

The SUV probably hadn’t even registered what was happening as Seokjin jetted off down the street as fast as he could push the car.

From behind Seokjin, Jungkook crooned, “Oh my god, Jin! You’re a fucking badass! My brother is a badass!”

Seokjin was counting on the clunky, slow to maneuver SUV having trouble getting turned around in traffic, while Jungkook’s car was smaller and lighter and easier to drive in general.

“How is this possible?” Jungkook asked, sounding breathless in the backseat. “How are you such a badass and I never even knew it. Are you Rambo, too? The Terminator?”

Seokjin hardly thought knowing how to do one trick in a car made him a badass.

“Oh, suddenly you know old movie characters?”

Jungkook’s eyes were a little glossy as he said, “How do you know how to do that? You’re supposed to my boring, serious older brother. How do you know how to do that?”

Seokjin told Jungkook seriously, watching the road behind them for any sign of the SUV, “I was a teenager once too, you know. And I wasn’t always dating podiatrists. Also, I told you, we’re never speaking of this again.”

Explosively Jungkook said, “Are you … you can’t be serious! I’m telling everyone on the planet that my brother is a badass!”

“Jungkook,” Seokjin groaned out.

A serious look overtook Jungkook’s face, and he snapped off his seat belt to climb into the front seat and ask, “Are you okay? How’s your heart?”

Surprisingly … surprisingly, it felt fine. It was going a little harder than normal, but he didn’t feel any of the telltale signs that something was catastrophically wrong. And wasn’t that some kind of ridiculousness? His heart could give him trouble just sitting down to dinner with some friends, but not during a high-speed chase involving guns?

“It’s good,” Seokjin told him, watching the relief cross Jungkook’s face.

“Okay,” Jungkook said, a little warily, almost like he didn’t completely believe Seokjin. The wind was pushing through his hair through the open windows, as he looked around. “Where are we? This isn’t our territory.”

“No,” Seokjin agreed. “But it’s good enough.”

Seokjin parked them, five minutes later, in front of a plain looking warehouse. He laid on the horn for a few seconds before turning the car off and getting out.

Jungkook followed suit, wincing when he shut the passenger door and the last bits of glass that had been attached to the frame of the window, crumbed to the car. He bemoaned, “My car. Oh god, look at my car.”

“Look at us,” Seokjin told him. “Be thankful we don’t look like the car.”

The big metal grate to the warehouse in front of them began to lift, and even though Jungkook tensed up at the unknown thing coming their way, Seokjin felt relatively safe.

“This,” Chanyeol said, strolling forward with Baekhyun at his side, “is unexpected.”

“It definitely wasn’t planned,” Seokjin agreed.

Chanyeol veered a wide berth around the car, whistling out, “What happened here?” Chanyeol’s eyes went to Jungkook. “Who’s car?”

“My car,” Jungkook said angrily. “And we’d love to know who shot it up just as much as you, apparently.”

Baekhyun’s face darkened. “This happened here?”

Seokjin nodded. “It started in front of my clinic, but it ended here, and the guys who shot at us in some black SUV? We lost them about six blocks from here.”

Baekhyun turned to a cluster of men standing further back and nodded at them. They disappeared from sight as Baekhyun asked, “Can you narrow down what we’re going to look for now? A license plate?”

“No plate,” Seokjin said, “which will make the SUV stand out. And Jungkook said the car is bullet proof, but he got some hits in, so there’ll at least be cosmetic damage.”

“Thanks,” Baekhyun said, and turned to tell Chanyeol, “I’ll get in touch with Suho about this and sweep the streets. You lockdown the more sensitive assets until we know what’s going on.”

Jungkook reached down into the car and held up Seokjin’s phone. “Look what I found. You call Rap Mon, okay? I don’t want to be the one to explain what just happened. He might go for my throat just because I’m the closest.”

“Hardly,” Seokjin told him. Namjoon tried to hide that he played favorites with some of his men, and he definitely went easier on Jungkook than most of them. Namjoon had a soft spot for Jungkook independent of Jungkook’s relation to Seokjin, and so it seemed highly unlikely Namjoon would do something like that to him.

“Well, come on inside and make that call,” Chanyeol said, waving them over. “Chen’s inside, and Kris. They’ll want to hear what’s going on.”

Jungkook, clearly a little more comfortable with the members of Exo than Seokjin had expected, started up into the warehouse. “You mean I can tell them about how my badass brother evaded a bunch of guys trying to kill us and did some crazy stunt driving to get us out of a bad spot?”

“No shit?” Chanyeol asked, sounding surprised.

“No shit,” Jungkook confirmed.

Come up from the side, Sehun asked, “You want to pull your car in?”

Seokjin looked back to the roughed up, utterly trampled looking car. “Sure, I guess? I’m just not sure anyone would steal this if we left it sitting out.”

Jungkook made a wounded sound.

They got the car into the warehouse just a few minutes later as other black cars, carrying members of Exo, exited, on the prowl for the SUV.

“I should be out there,” Jungkook said quietly as they moved to the office space in the warehouse, which was surprisingly furnished, climate controlled, and had a refrigerator with drinks inside.

Seokjin settled for a bottle of water as he told Jungkook, “Let me call first Namjoon and find out if Bangtan even knows what just happened. My guess would be they’re completely clueless we were almost roadkill. And if they want you out there, I’ll tell you.”

Jungkook couldn’t argue against that, so he accepted his own drink, settled into a seat near Seokjin, and waited.

As expected, he didn’t have to wait long after the call for Bangtan to show up. Namjoon arrived just under half an hour later, and by then all the adrenaline had worn off, and Seokjin was starting to feel exhausted and sleepy—weary. Jungkook was nodding off in the chair next to him as well.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asked when he got to his side. He sounded almost breathless, and Seokjin could see the way Namjoon was aching to reach out for him and touch him. Exo were their allies, at least for the moment. But that kind of display of affection seemed better kept for private, or for Bangtan only.

“I’m okay,” Seokjin assured. “It was a close call, but Jungkook and I are fine.” Namjoon’s eyes flickered to Jungkook for a second, appraising his condition, before returning to Seokjin.

Softly he said, “I wanted to be wrong about this. About Hoya and Infinite. I’m sorry.”

Seokjin protested, “The windows in the SUV were heavily tinted. There’s no way to say who was driving, or who ordered this.”

Loudly, in an act of bravado that was clearly disguising his worry, Jimin arrived to announce, “That’s what I’m saying. I wanna pin this on those Infinite bastards as much as anyone else, but there’s no saying it was them for sure.”

Namjoon prickled with irritation. “You really think it was anyone but them?”

Suho stepped into the room then, another member of Exo that Seokjin had little interaction with, Tao, was with him.

“I think it was them,” Suho said unabashedly. “But we don’t know that for sure, and Baekhyun’s search hasn’t turned up anything.”

Rubbing sleepily at his eyes, Jungkook said, “They’re probably long gone. I would be, if it were me. They’re probably not stupid enough to go driving around in Exo’s territory without backup for very long—whoever they are. Doesn’t matter. No one is that stupid.”

Suho met Seokjin’s gaze and said, “I saw the car already. Chanyeol said you were the one driving. Impressive.”

It was like all the sleep from Jungkook’s face vanished in an instant, and he said almost explosively, “Oh you have no idea what it was like watching my boring older brother reveal to me that he’s secretly some racecar driving badass. He was weaving in and out of traffic, and taking corners like they were nothing—fucking drifting I’m telling you, and then he did the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen in my life. See, we were in serious trouble because there were a bunch of cars in front of us, and Jin—”

“Jungkook,” Seokjin said testily, feeling Namjoon’s fingers brush his palm.

Jungkook ignored him, and with a captive audience, relayed, “He was all like, “put on your seat belt” in this really growly tone, and I thought he was crazy, but then he put the car in reverse and we were driving backwards super fast.”

Namjoon’s head tilted towards Seokjin. “Seriously?”

Seokjin rubbed his forehead as Jungkook continued, “So we’re driving backwards on the street, and he whipped us around. I mean like Fast and the Furious whipped us around, put the car in drive, and lost those guys all in about fifteen seconds. My brother is a badass. My brother is … it’s like finding out my brother is secretly Batman.”

Suho gave a laugh, but if it was from the way Jungkook told the story, or the story itself, Seokjin didn’t know.

“Bullshit,” Jimin said, looking at him with such betrayal that Seokjin nearly burst out laughing. “There’s no way that story is true. There’s no way.”

Slowly, Seokjin let out a deep breath and said, “I drove because Jungkook needed to be free to defend us, and because I’m a better driver than him.”

Jimin pressed, “But what about all that Fast and the Furious stuff Jungkook said? Is that true?”

Seokjin started, “I just tried my best to—”

“It’s true,” Jungkook said loudly. “All of it. The whipping around, the crazy skills, everything. I mean everything.”

Jimin just shook his head in disbelief. “You freak out if I go above fifteen on my motorcycle. How does that make any sense?”

In retrospect, Seokjin was starting to feel like he’d been highly negligent while he was driving. He’d learned how to do the quick turn around a long time ago, and had only practiced it a couple of times. It could have gone horrible wrong. He could have rolled the car or hurt someone.

“Look,” Namjoon interrupted anything anyone was going to say, “how this all played out doesn’t matter. What does, is that for the moment at least, everyone is safe. And for tonight, that’s enough.”

Seokjin told Suho, “I’m sorry for just showing up here announced like this, especially with tensions a little high. I just thought this was the safest place to be, at least in that situation, given where we were, and I’ve been here before. I knew how to get here.”

Suho brushed aside his apology. “You did the right thing, coming here.”

Namjoon seemed to agree.

It didn’t take long for things to get sorted out, at least for the night. Seokjin found himself preparing to depart the warehouse, closer to midnight than he’d ever expected to be awake for, with Jimin and Jungkook.

“Stick with them for tonight,” Namjoon murmured to him when it became clear that he planned to stay behind to take care of business with Suho. “They’ll take you to the safehouse, and you’ll be fine for tonight.”

Seokjin pointed out, “I really don’t think anyone is going to try something again after what just happened. I think in a lot of ways Jungkook and I got lucky, but we also got the best of whoever was chasing us.”

It seemed painful for Namjoon to admit, as he grit his teeth and said, “Maybe you’re right. You could, possibly, go right back to our place and be perfectly safe. But I’m pretty paranoid right now, and my nerves are fraying. So do me a small favor and just go to the safehouse for tonight? Especially after what just happened?”

The two of them didn’t have any real privacy, but the others were doing their best to give them space in the room. Seokjin appreciated the gesture for what it was worth.

“Okay,” Seokjin said easily, because it wasn’t asking too much for him to go for the night, and because he could see the worry in Namjoon’s eyes. “But just tonight, okay? I’m pulling a double shift at the clinic tomorrow. I’m opening and closing, because some of the staff leave requests overlapped.”

“And you,” Namjoon said with a grin, “didn’t want to tell anyone they couldn’t have the day off they requested?”

Sternly, but not in a harsh way, Seokjin said, “Don’t act like you’re not a softie when it comes to giving your people what they want when they deserve it.” After all, he’d let Hoseok and Taehyung slip away for a significant amount of time on their anniversary.

Namjoon grinned at him. “I’m nothing compared to you.”

It felt like the words had extra weight, and Seokjin was nearly sunk by them.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Jungkook called out.

“No respect for me,” Namjoon said with ease, letting himself finally take Seokjin’s hand and squeeze it hard. “I thought you said you were going to murder him for driving on your lawn?”

“I will,” Seokjin said with a laugh, and then despite the fact that they weren’t alone, and that they were in the same room as members of Exo, Seokjin laid a simple but meaningful kiss on Namjoon’s lips. He told him, “Be safe tonight. Especially because of when just happened.”

Seokjin thought Namjoon might let go of his hand then, but Namjoon only used it as leverage to tug Seokjin closer, and say into his ear, “I’m so unbelievably turned on by the idea of you driving that car out there like you’re in some Mad Max movie. You’re always attractive to me, but right now? So hot.”

“Namjoon,” Seokjin said through clenched teeth.

Namjoon only gave a smug look and then said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Did Namjoon just think he could say those things and get away with it?

“Who do you think you are, just saying something like that to me?” Seokjin whispered to him.

Namjoon wiggled his eyebrows and whispered back, “Someone who’s being a bad boy, apparently. What are you gonna do about it?”

There was a flush of warmth spreading through Seokjin’s body then, the kind that made him bold enough to press back in a heavy way, “I’m open to suggestions, Mister Kim, and to being very, very, thorough with your discipline.”

“I don’t know what you’re whispering to each other,” Jungkook shouted, “but it’s probably something dirty! Can you please stop and come on, Jin. I’m traumatized enough for one day.”

Namjoon finally released his grip on Seokjin’s hand. But he was quick to remind, “Remember, if you do murder him, no witnesses, and you have to go down at least six feet when you’re burying a body.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Seokjin said with a laugh. “I love you.”

“They’re going to tow the car to a shop tomorrow morning,” Jungkook said to Seokjin when they were climbing in the car Jimin and Namjoon had arrived in. It was a big clunky thing, even bigger than the SUV that had been following them. But it was sturdy in a way Seokjin had never felt from a car before, and that was probably the point. Seokjin felt a little like he was in a safe room as he climbed in the back, not bothering to fight Jungkook for the front passenger seat.

From the driver’s seat, turning the engine key, Jimin leaned towards Seokjin and asked, “You wanna drive? Apparently you’re some secret racecar professional driver. You might feel more comfortable up here.”

Seokjin wasn’t willing to rise to the bait, and instead said, “I’m so tired I’m more liable to drive us off the road. Plus, from back here I get to laugh at how small you look siting up there in this big car. You look like a kid.”

Jungkook snickered out, “And that’s saying something, because you’re already pint sized.”

Jimin said darkly, “At least I’m not a six-year-old in a giant’s body!”

“Better a giant than a midget!”

Seokjin slumped back in his seat as Jimin and Jungkook launched themselves at each other, in a tightly confined space, shouting insults at each other.

“Guys,” Seokjin said wearily, “it’s late and I’m tired. Stop squabbling.” He gave a huff of irritation. “Or I’ll get out right now and start walking.”

Those words seemed to jar both Jimin and Jungkook.

“Jerk,” Jungkook whispered at Jimin.

“Baby,” Jimin whispered back.

They ended up going to the same safehouse that Jungkook had been trying to get him to originally. And it was, just like Jungkook had described, a quaint little apartment that was fully furnished and absolutely looked like someone lived there.

“It’s a security thing,” Jimin commented when Seokjin pointed out the pictures of unknown people up on the mantle and on the walls. “Make it look like it’s as normal as possible. There’s even a couple people—the same people, who come in and out of here at really visible times. We pay them to pretend to live here, and that’s what adds to the security.

Seokjin strolled through the small apartment. “It’s nice.”

Jimin shrugged off his riding jacket, which meant before he’d shown up with Namjoon he’d been somewhere else, and told him, “I know you’re tired. The bed in the bedroom has clean sheets, and if you want to take a shower, there’s fresh towels. There’s definitely some clothing in the wardrobe, but I can’t vouch for it.”

A shower sounded amazing, but Seokjin was just too tired for one. So instead he nodded to the open bedroom and said, “I’m just going to sleep.”

Jimin nodded, and then asked him in a brave show of emotion, “Are you sure you’re okay? And don’t say yes so quickly, if that’s not how you really feel. This isn’t the first time people have been gunning for you, but tonight was no joke.”

“I’ll be okay,” Seokjin said certainly. “If I get some sleep, I’ll be okay. But thank you, Jimin. Thank you for caring.”

Jimin went bright red. “I just …”

“Thank you,” Seokjin said again.

Jungkook, shifting back and forth on his feet, asked Jimin, “You want to take shifts watching for trouble? This place is so off the grid it isn’t even funny, but still, we shouldn’t take chances. I could go first, or you could wake me in a couple hours.”

Jimin scoffed. “Go get some sleep, Kookie. Boss’s orders. In the morning we need you up and rearing to go, so get some sleep while you can.”

“Ugh, sleep.” Jungkook shuffled past Seokjin into the bedroom, already pulling his shirt over his head.

When Jungkook was gone, Seokjin had no problem telling Jimin again, “Thanks for that. He needs to get some sleep.”

“Rap Mon really said to make him,” Jimin relayed with a shrug. “But you’re welcome anyway.”

Seokjin turned to go into the bedroom when Jimin called his name faintly.

“It’s just …” Jimin trailed off with a wince, before seemingly finding some courage and asking, “Seriously Jungkook was telling the truth about that driving?”

With a pleased smile, Seokjin told him, “It’s always interesting when you find something out about a person you never would have expected, right?”

“Interesting doesn’t begin to cover it.”

Seokjin chuckled a little as he told Jimin, “I’ll cook you breakfast in the morning, okay? Have a good night.”

He felt like he was being rewarded for something with the very authentic smile that Jimin bestowed on him.

There was only one bedroom in the apartment, and only one bed, but Seokjin and Jungkook had shared before, and they had no problem sharing now. The full-sized bed was a little small for both their statures, but they made it work, folding in on each other a little more easily than it should have gone.

Jungkook splayed a bit onto Seokjin, much like Namjoon tended to do, and as they both drifted a little, Seokjin’s fingers scratched lazily at Jungkook’s scalp.

“That’s perfect,” Jungkook practically purred out. “You’re the best brother ever.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” Seokjin said, scratching a little more firmly. He added more affectionately, “And I definitely love you. Jungkook … you did good today.”

Jungkook hummed out, “You’re saying good job to me shooting at people. What universe am I in now?”

Seokjin’s fingers stilled. “I will never like you handling a gun, or potentially hurting people—even the bad guys. But you did what you had to in order to protect yourself.”

“Hey.” Jungkook’s head dipped back on the pillow a little. “Keep scratching.”  With a silent laugh, Seokjin started scratching again, just in time for Jungkook to say, “I wasn’t shooting at those bastards today to protect myself. I was shooting at them to protect you.”

That was his brother in a nutshell, and that was why Seokjin felt privileged time and time again to be related to him. Because Jungkook was selfless, and brave, and so utterly loveable.

“I’m the big brother,” Seokjin reminded, like he typically did.

“You keep saying that,” Jungkook said with a yawn.

“Because it’s true,” Seokjin said, curling an arm around Jungkook to cradle him a little closer. He didn’t think it would ever matter to him how old he or Jungkook got. Seokjin was always going to be affectionate with him, and hug and kiss him, and cherish Jungkook. And he wouldn’t be embarrassed by it.

Seokjin had nearly drifted off completely to sleep when Jungkook asked in a barely lucid way, “You gotta tell me how you learned to drive like that.”

“Maybe one day I’ll show you,” Seokjin offered. “But not with an automatic, okay? The next car you’re getting needs to be a manual. When you drive a manual, you have a lot more control over the car. Do you know how to drive manual?”

“No clue,” Jungkook admitted.

Seokjin chided, “What kind of driving school did dad send you to?” He felt a stab of pain a moment after the statement. Their father had paid for Jungkook’s driving lessons when he’d been seventeen just months before Bangtan had blown into their lives, and less than a year before the man had fallen seriously ill. At the time of the lessons their father had definitely known he was sick, but he’d still been hiding it. Seokjin now believed that was the reason their father hadn’t taught Jungkook personally.

Jungkook only yawned again.

“I’ll teach you,” Seokjin promised, now more determined to make up for what their father had run out of time for.

Jungkook breathed out an echo of his words earlier, “You’re the best,” and then he was snoring softly

Seokjin held him a little closer in the darkness of the room, and then gave into his own need to sleep.


	27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

 Waking up to Bangtan members in his home before he was properly alert, or had a few minutes to get himself together, was never anything that put Seokjin into a good mood. And they had rules, too, to prevent something like that happening.

So when Seokjin woke up to a cold bed on Namjoon’s side, and muffled voices in the living room, he fully expected to walk into some emergency.

Because they had rules.

Therefore, he was understandably upset, as he fumbled his way into a robe, when he opened the bedroom door, and found Namjoon entertaining the company of Jimin and Taehyung.

He stopped in the crest between the bedroom hallway and the living room and stared.

“Morning,” Taehyung hollered at him happily.

Seokjin kept staring.

Jimin arched an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with you?”

Next to Jimin, Namjoon’s face froze up as he murmured, “Oh, no.”

Clenching his fingers into a fist, Seokjin said, “We have rules.”

Namjoon scrambled to his feet and to Seokjin’s side. “Jin,” he said calmingly, “let me explain to you what’s going on.”

Seokjin, feeling overly grumpy at having his personal space invaded with no emergency cause, shrugged off all of Namjoon’s attempts to pacify his temper. “We have rules,” he ground out.

Namjoon, with minty fresh breath that spoke to how long he’d been awake—which was long enough for him to have brushed his teeth and then for the mint to have started to wear off a little, gave Seokjin a quick kiss and said, “This isn’t an emergency, and yes, I know our rules. But this is important, and I wouldn’t have them over here so early unless it was worthwhile. Don’t you trust that I understand our rules and respect them? I respect you.”

Anger was fading from Seokjin’s body, though probably more just because he wasn’t one to hold onto that sort of thing. He warned Namjoon, “Don’t think you’re out of the woods just because you’ve learned to say all the right things.”

Namjoon gave him a bashful grin. “Jin, I’m not just saying the right things. I’m saying things I mean.”

“That,” Seokjin pointed out. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

Namjoon gave him another kiss, and this time Seokjin let himself fall into it a little. At least until he realized he’d just woken up, and his mouth was full of funk.

“I don’t care,” Namjoon declared bravely. “I’ll kiss you no matter what!”

“You’re disgusting!” Jimin called to them.

Seokjin shouldered his way past Namjoon and fully into the living room.

Taehyung started, “Sorry about just barging in like this, but we—”

Seokjin ignored him and kept moving to the kitchen, telling Namjoon over his shoulder, “I’m having caffeinated coffee today.”

Namjoon whispered to a frowning Taehyung as he passed by, “Don’t take it personally. Jin’s always a little grumpy when he first wakes up. He’ll be back to his overly nice self as soon as he’s had coffee.”

Seokjin was already at the coffee machine by the time Namjoon was finished telling Taehyung that. Most days he didn’t go for coffee. Most days he had a nice cup of decaffeinated tea. And if he did have coffee, because of his heart and the medication he took, he also had the decaffeinated kind. But today? Waking up to Taehyung and Jimin and the trouble they were surely bringing? He was getting what he wanted.

Trailing his way into the kitchen, Namjoon leaned up on the island countertop and said, “You know you shouldn’t.”

Seokjin scooped coffee into the machine defiantly.

Namjoon only laughed and deposited Seokjin’s medication for the day onto a spot next to him. “At least take these first, okay? And then maybe wait a couple of minutes before the coffee hits your system? You know you get heart palpitations when you take them together, and that can be triggering for you. Don’t push your luck, especially not since we have to show you something.”

Seokjin swiped up his medicine, and asked curiously, “You need to show me something?”

More solemnly now, Namjoon gave a nod. “Last night—more like early this morning, one of Suho’s guys down at the traffic department came through for him.”

Seokjin reached up for a mug for the coffee, and said, “What’s the traffic department got to do with anything?” He was even more confused now.

While the coffee was perking, Seokjin took his meds quickly, pushing away the idea that he was going to have to tell Namjoon soon that he was going in for surgery. He hadn’t said anything to anyone about it, not even Jungkook, and he wanted to keep it that way for as long as he could. The last thing Bangtan needed was to worry about him. But he was going to tell Jonghyun very soon, just for the sake of covering the clinic.

And Seokjin really did hope that Minah had meant what she’d said about covering for him at the clinic while he was down for recovery after his surgery. She wasn’t a liar, and she was good at keeping her word, but Seokjin didn’t like uncertainty, especially when it came to his clinic.

Namjoon gestured to his coffee. “Get your coffee and then meet me back in the living room. I’ll explain everything, and when you hear why Jimin and V are here, I think you’ll be a little less irritated.”

“Promises,” Seokjin said, feeling easier now, more awake, and more tolerant.

While the coffee was finishing, he went quickly to brush his teeth, and then fifteen minutes later he was sitting down on the sofa in the living room. By then the mild amount of clutter that had been on the coffee table previously was cleared away, and instead a laptop was set up.

“We’re watching something?” Seokjin questioned.

Namjoon sat next to him and explained, “We’ve spent the past several days trying to run down who was in that other car.”

Seokjin agreed, “It’s been keeping you awake at night.” He’d surely noticed how late Namjoon had been coming to bed, if he’d been coming at all, and how he’d started tossing and turning again.

Tersely, Namjoon said, “I don’t like the idea of whoever tried to run you and Jungkook down, still being out on the street. Even more than that, I don’t like not knowing who it is. I feel like we don’t know anything these days.”

Seokjin had wanted to know who was behind the act simply because in the days that had passed since then, he’d been relegated back to some damsel in distress status, which was not pleasing. Namjoon was doing his absolute best to keep his people back at a safe distance, and not smother him to death, but Seokjin was tired of being watched all the time, and followed, and being treated like he was spun of glass. Finding the person who’d given chase would allow Namjoon to back off a little.

“Suho knows a guy,” Jimin said, sitting cross legged on the floor next to the coffee table, “in the department of traffic. And that matters, you should be able to guess this, because there are video cameras on practically every light in this city.”

Taehyung offered up, “I’ve been working with Chen to go through all the footage Suho’s guy got us of that night, and we finally put it all together last night. Wanna see what we found?” Taehyung held up a flashdrive in a dramatic way.

Seokjin practically held his breath. “Then you know who it was?”

In a heavy way, Namjoon said, “You already do, too.”

Taehyung put the flashdrive into the slot on the side of the laptop, and worked quickly to bring up a video.

Nervously, Seokjin sipped at his coffee, biting back shock at the strength of the caffeine. He was so used to cutting it out of his diet that when he let himself splurge and have it, it almost wasn’t very good.

“So this is you,” Taehyung said, a finger on the screen as Seokjin saw a camera angle pointed directly at his clinic. It was from the light across the street, and he only had to wait seconds to see Jungkook’s car drive up on the grass for him. He was out just after that, got in the car, and they were off.

Obviously, Taehyung had done a lot of work to get the footage all together, because as the video progressed, Seokjin could see all kinds of cuts, and different cameras spliced together. It must have taken forever to build a cohesive narrative, but Taehyung had done it.

His coffee suddenly forgotten, Seokjin watched the footage of the car he was driving, and Jungkook was shooting out of, weave in and out of traffic, and pull off some death-defying stunts.

“I was an idiot,” Seokjin said flatly, wincing at a particularly sharp turn he took in the car, the vehicle nearly going on two wheels.

Jimin scoffed. “Your brother was right. You’re a badass.”

Taehyung, on his knees in front of the laptop, hurried to say, “And here’s the best part.”

Namjoon gave a long, appreciative whistle, when the car on the security footage pulled off the stunt that Jungkook had been raving about for days.

And yes, it was reckless and stupid and Seokjin could have kicked himself for it now.

But it also did look really cool.

He was never going to admit that, but it looked really cool.

Jimin pegged Seokjin with an accusing look. “Jungkook said you promised to teach him how to do that. We’re friends, aren’t we? You’re just going to leave me out of that?”

“I …”

Taehyung burst out, “I want to learn, too.”

Namjoon laughed and said, “We don’t trust you to drive in a straight line.”

Taehyung crossed his arms. “And everyone thought Jin was just this grandpa driver. So maybe don’t make assumptions?”

Namjoon put his hands up. “Hey, if Jin wants to risk his life with you in the car behind the wheel, then he can do what he wants. But the rest of us are going to say we told him so when you flip the car trying to pull something like that off.”

Petty squabbling seemed seconds from breaking out, so Seokjin cleared his throat loudly and asked, “Can we focus here?”

Jimin reached across Taehyung to hit another button on the laptop, and the video cut away from Seokjin’s car and back to the SUV. “Go on, Tae,” Jimin said. “Show him.”

Taehyung, seemingly zeroing in on the laptop again, said, “Okay, okay, so that this point you’re going off towards Exo’s territory. By the way, I’m gonna say it again, that was good thinking. But we’re not interested in seeing that. Who cares about that. We know who you are and where you end up. This is what we care about.”

The video went on, and Seokjin watched as the SUV peeled off after Seokjin and Jungkook’s car, but gave up fairly quickly. And from there on out the SUV drove normally through the streets, heading some place Seokjin couldn’t figure out, before it parked in an abandoned lot in a deserted looking area.

“Where is this?” Seokjin asked Taehyung.

Taehyung answered, “Just outside of Seoul. And we’re lucky he stopped here, because Suho’s guy couldn’t get us anything past this area if we’d needed it.”

Seokjin’s eyes were glued to the laptop screen as seconds later the door to the SUV’s driver seat opened, and out stepped Hoya.

“I hate being right,” Namjoon said, actually sounding sorry.

Seokjin found himself saying lowly, “Don’t be sorry. I give you hell sometimes for being so overprotective, but that night? You probably saved my life.”

Namjoon’s thigh pressed alongside his, and Seokjin meant what he’d said.

“Look at that asshole,” Jimin said with a dry scoff. “Look at him.”

On the video surveillance footage, captured from a street away and obviously enhanced, Hoya seemed unbothered by what had just occurred as he paced a little, talking to someone on the phone.

Seeing Hoya now brought back a slew of memories to Seokjin, most of them terrible and traumatizing, and all of them reminding Seokjin of how easily he could have lost everyone he cared about.

“Any clue who he’s talking to?” Seokjin asked.

“Wait for it,” Taehyung urged.

Seokjin reached out and put his hand on Namjoon’s knee, feeling it jittering.

There was a time skip in the video, though just by fifteen minutes, and soon there was a second car in the frame. Its license plate looked deliberately obscured as it pulled up, and Hoya got in without a bit of hesitation.

Then the car raced back out onto the street, and Seokjin could see the driver.

“Okay,” he breathed out, squeezing hard at Namjoon’s knee, maybe just to stabilize himself, “that’s Dongwoo.”

“I think,” Jimin offered up, “it’s safe to assume that Hoya is going right back to his stomping grounds, and Infinite is a sure bet of where to put the blame.”

Seokjin was surprised at how urgent his own voice sounded when he asked, “Where do they go from here?”

Taehyung closed the laptop, which was an answer all its own before he said, “No telling. They’re going further out of the city at that point, and like I said, we can’t get that footage.”

Namjoon broke in, “But if we kind of guess here that Infinite is working out of some place other than Seoul, things start to make a long more sense. It would explain why we haven’t been able to pin Infinite down in Seoul—in any of the usual spots. But they’re likely not going that far out of Seoul, which means they can still keep a couple strategic footholds, and stay hidden enough to keep scheming.”

“No one even thought it,” Jimin confessed, elbows on his crossed knees. “Everyone was so sure Infinite was actually in Seoul, because there’s been sightings. No one thought for a second they were just posturing here, and actually operating somewhere else.”

Seokjin swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Is that a good thing or bad?”

Jimin shrugged. “It depends on how you look at it, I guess.”

“Good that they’re not right underneath our noses,” Namjoon told him, letting his hand cover Seokjin’s on his knee. “I hate the idea that they’re little rats in this city, scurrying around in places we can’t see. But if they’re not here, finding them is going to be even more difficult. And if we have to go out there to find them, we won’t be on our turf anymore.”

Seokjin leaned back on the sofa, his coffee going cold on him. He didn’t know what to think about what he’d seen, other than Hoya was still as terrifying now as he’d ever been.

A little nervously, Taehyung said, “I hope you don’t mind us all hanging around you for a while longer. Because Hoya isn’t the kind of guy to give up easily, and I think it’s safe to say he has a personal vendetta against you.”

Seokjin’s eyes flickered to Namjoon. “You think he was behind what happened here? At the apartment when I was home alone?”

“Maybe?” Seokjin hated how unsure he sounded. “That all happened before Hoya was on the loose, and so unless he was giving orders from inside jail, that was someone else’s call.”

Taehyung offered up, “Maybe Myungsoo?”

So that begged the question…

Seokjin asked, “Then who’s really in charge of Infinite right now?”

“I don’t know,” Namjoon said honestly. “That’s what Suho and I want to know more than you can possibly imagine. Because how can we fight our enemy, when we don’t know who that enemy is?”

Seokjin grimaced, and he felt like his sentiment was reflected on the faces of Taehyung and Jimin.

“So that’s why they’re here,” Namjoon said, indicating to the members of Bangtan that Seokjin had woken to. “Because Taehyung brought the footage, and Jimin’s been working closely with Exo to sure up our defense strategies. Jimin’s gonna be your shadow for a couple of days, and before you say anything, I picked him specifically because he knows how to keep back, but also I trust him to catch danger if it comes your way.”

Seokjin glanced over to Jimin. “You made a couple of my patients cry the last time you played nurse.”

“Not true,” Jimin said, “but if I did, they deserved it.”

Namjoon reassured, “He won’t be in the clinic with you, okay? He’s just on perimeter duty.”

Seokjin asked, “Can I just have Nurse V instead.”

Taehyung beamed as Jimin shouted, “Hey!”

Insistently, Seokjin said, “No offense, Jimin, but Taehyung has a wonderful bedside manner, and not only do my patients love him, but my staff do as well.”

Taehyung whispered to Jimin, “Jin likes me more than you.”

“I will destroy you,” Jimin vowed. “The second we’re out of this apartment.”

“No,” Namjoon cut in. “I need V with Chen on extending our search. I can’t spare him right now, because he’s the only one that I trust in Bangtan implicitly, who knows his way around a computer. So if we’re going to have any chance at finding more footage of Infinite, V is the one who’s going to do it.”

“Plus,” Taehyung cut in, “I’m nice to Exo, so they like me.”

“That matters?” Jimin asked skeptically.

“Of course it does,” Taehyung insisted. “When people like you, they’re more willing to go along with what you’re saying, or agree to what you suggest.  I’m not saying I’m working Exo over, but them liking me gives me more control, and we can always do with more control.”

Apologetically, Namjoon said to Seokjin once more, “Sorry for springing this on you this morning, but I wanted to keep you in the loop, and I wanted you to see Hoya so you knew how serious this was.”

A little defensively, Seokjin said, “I’m not going to change my life because of this. I’m not going to change my routines, or what I do every day. Not even for Hoya.”

Namjoon’s smile was uneasy, but he said indulgently, “I wouldn’t expect any different from you.”

Seokjin was just getting up to go put his coffee in the microwave, to try and heat it up a little, when the doorbell rang.

“Are we expecting more company?” Seokjin asked, making a beeline for the door.

“We’re not,” Namjoon said, cutting ahead of him in a decidedly protective way.

Seokjin wanted to tell him that they probably weren’t going to open the door to Hoya standing there, and if there was a person at the door who wasn’t supposed to be there, the increased security presence outside the apartment would have alerted them.

But Seokjin let him go and reach the door first, because it wasn’t worth the argument, and because some things were just so Namjoon.

Even though Seokjin knew for certain that Hoya wouldn’t be at the door, absolutely unexpected was the sight of Kibum standing at the door, a baby bag at his feet, and Yebin in her carrier held firmly in Kibum’s hands.

Yebin.

Yebin?

“Kibum?” Seokjin asked, practically flying to the door.

Kibum, bearing the weight of Yebin in her carrier, the baby herself fast asleep, looked absolutely apologetic as he hurried to say, “I know it’s early, and I’m sorry for coming over here without calling first, but Jonghyun and I need a huge favor from you.”

“Anything,” Seokjin said automatically, but he was practically stuck on the almost impossible sight that was Yebin in Kibum’s possession. “But how …”

Kibum seemed to follow Seokjin’s gaze to Yebin right away and said, “This is the favor. Jonghyun said you aren’t scheduled to go into the clinic until noon today, so we really would consider it a favor if you could watch Yebin for a couple of hours. We absolutely think we’ll be back for her by then, there’s no reason we wouldn’t be, but if we aren’t, we can get her from the clinic.”

In an uncertain way, Namjoon asked, “Kibum? When did you get a baby?”

Seokjin backed him up, saying, “I’d love to know, too.” Because the last he’d heard, Yebin had been successfully deposited into the arms of her only other family member, and was off to a new life—breaking Jonghyun and Kibum’s hearts in the process.

Seokjin almost asked if Jonghyun or Kibum had made off with Yebin in the night like she was some priceless jewel.

Kibum regarded Namjoon for a second, then said, “Good morning, Namjoon. Sorry to intrude on you like this, but it absolutely is an emergency.”

Seokjin shook himself away from the millions of questions he had, and instead waved Kibum in, to get him out of the morning sun and to avoid waking Yebin.

“Is this a bad time?” Kibum asked when he was in the apartment, eyeing Jimin and Taehyung as if he’d never seen them before. And Seokjin knew he had. Kibum was out of the country frequently, but Bangtan had been haunting the clinic, so to speak, for a long time. Kibum absolutely knew who the two of them were, though he was probably a lot more familiar with Taehyung than Jimin.

“Cute baby,” Jimin said, not sounding like he meant it at all.

Seokjin rolled his eyes as he shut the door behind Kibum and asked, “What’s the emergency?”

Kibum set Yebin’s carrier down gently on the floor and put her bag right next to it, saying, “Jonghyun will give you the long version when he can, but to keep it short and sweet, last night Jonghyun’s social worker friend gave us a call. It was very late, probably closer to eleven than twelve. She said that girl they’d given Yebin to? The kid?”

Worriedly, Seokjin prompted, “Yebin’s cousin. What about her?”

It hadn’t been that long since Yebin had been whisked away, and Jonghyun and Kibum had tried to reset their lives. Seokjin had watched them struggle for a bit, and they were only now starting to appear like they’d gotten past what had happened. Seokjin desperately hoped they weren’t being teased in some way with Yebin. Or hurt.

Tersely, Kibum ran a hand through his bangs said, “She dropped Yebin off last night at the department of social services. She said she couldn’t handle Yebin—apparently all she does is cry.”

Taehyung had cautiously made his way to them, and he was kneeling by Yebin then, and offered, “This kid? She looks like an angel.”

A smile of mirth crossed Kibum’s face. “Oh, she’ll scream like she’s the devil, that’s for sure, but you gotta know how to handle her. She’s got a very forceful personality for her age.”

With a wince, Namjoon asked, “So this girl just dropped the baby off in the middle of the night?”

Kibum nodded. “She said she couldn’t handle it, but that she was sorry, and took off. She signed all the release forms, and now, technically, Yebin is a ward of the state.”

Seokjin took a closer look at the sleeping baby and said, “At least she looks okay. How did she get to you?”

Simply, Kibum said, “Jonghyun’s friend knew we wanted her, and that we’d be responsible in taking care of her, and not decide halfway through a week that we didn’t want her. So she brought Yebin to us this morning, with a stack of paperwork, and said if we were willing to stand before a judge this morning and sign a mountain more of paperwork, that she could be ours.”

Seokjin’s eyes widened. “What?”

Kibum put his hands out in a calming way. “We’re petitioning the court for temporary custodial rights to her this morning, and Jonghyun is already down at the courthouse right now, getting started on the paperwork. If the judge agrees, and apparently there’s no reason to think we’ll get denied, considering how we cared for her last time, she’ll be ours for the time being.”

“Wow,” Namjoon breathed out. “That’s some jump you’re taking into the deep end.”

In her sleep, Yebin fussed a little, but she didn’t show any serious signs of waking.

Seriously, Kibum told Seokjin, “If we have her for six months, and go through all the reviews, and jump through some hoops, and get really, really lucky, we can petition for adoption starting in January.”

Seokjin was floored. He’d known both Jonghyun and Kibum were overly fond of Yebin, and they’d been hurt when they had to give her up, but adoption was huge.

“Are you sure that’s the road you want to go down?” Seokjin asked evenly.

Kibum said, “We’ve been taking seriously about a family for some time, and Yebin is … she’s irritable and temperamental and fussy and an absolute pain in the ass sometimes. But she’s it for us, Jin. She’s the one. And when she smiles at me? That’s how I know for sure.”

Taehyung stroked the back of his fingers against Yebin’s arm gently and said, “She’s really pretty.”

“That too.” Kibum arched an eyebrow. “Can you imagine the things I’ll get to dress her in? The styles and fabrics and designers? I’ll have her in fashion shows before she’s old enough to walk.”

“Good luck with that,” Seokjin laughed out quietly. “She seems like the kind of baby to fight you tooth and nail.”

“Nah,” Kibum said confidently. “I’m going to pamper her, and she’ll love it.”

Namjoon asked, “You have to go directly to the courthouse from here?”

“Right now, actually, if you’re agreeing to watch her for a couple of hours. We were advised not to bring her to the proceedings because she’s so young.”

“Of course we’re agreeing,” Seokjin said, and there’d never been a single doubt. “We’ll keep her here until I have to leave for work, and then if you’re not back by eleven-thirty, when I’m leaving for work, come pick her up at the clinic when you can.”

Obvious relief lifted the worry from Kibum’s shoulders and he said, “Thank you. Jin … thank you.”

Seokjin nudged him. “Go get your girl, okay?”

Kibum knelt down next to Taehyung and spent an extra second tucking Yebin’s soft lavender blanket more around her body. The apartment wasn’t too cold for her, but Seokjin knew fussing when he saw it. Kibum probably couldn’t believe he’d gotten her back at all, and now he had to leave her. So Seokjin didn’t say anything about the fussing, or the tender way Kibum kissed her forehead.

“Don’t you dare let anything happen to her,” Kibum said, needlessly when he stood back up. His eyes narrowed and flickered towards Jimin and Taehyung before he said, “If you let girls into your little club, I would tell you not to get any bright ideas with her on that matter, too.”

“Hey!” Namjoon looked genuinely insulted as he said, “Bangtan doesn’t discriminate based on gender. We’ll take anyone who wants to protect the neighborhood and cares about helping others. And yes, I think you need to know, we do have women who are members of Bangtan.”

With a grin on his face, Seokjin assured, “It’s true. I’ve seen them. And they’re not relegated to mundane tasks, either. A lot of them are very high up and responsible for a lot of important things.”

Sure, Seokjin had to concede that there weren’t a lot of women in Bangtan, or at least they were highly disproportionate to the number of male members. But they were there, Seokjin saw them from time to time, and they tended to be high ranked.  Seokjin would have liked to see more equality, but he also understood how intimidating Bangtan could seem to women from the outside. It definitely appeared to be a boy’s club to those who didn’t know better.

“I promise,” Seokjin added.

“That isn’t helping,” Kibum said honestly, “because now I’m worried you’re definitely going to try and recruit my kickass kid.”

Jimin offered, “She’s a little under the mandatory age requirement.”

Kibum scoffed, “You’d make an exception for her.”

Jimin eyed Yebin like she was a bomb threatening to explode.

It took a couple more minutes to run Kibum out the door, but he was gone soon enough, and then Seokjin was left with the sleeping baby. He moved her carrier further into the living room and got it set up on the coffee table where he could keep a better eye on her until she woke up.

“Seriously,” Namjoon asked Seokjin, “how did all this happen?”

The story itself was a little too long to get out, so Seokjin settled for the abridged version, and told it as quickly as he could.

“She just left her kid there?” Namjoon asked with a frown.

“Yeah,” Seokjin said softly.

Taehyung, who seemed to have already developed a fondness for Yebin (though Seokjin thought this was a lot to do with the fact that Yebin was still asleep and not crying), asked, “How could a mom just do that?”

Seokjin just shrugged. “When people get pushed to the very edge, they make impulsive, potentially terrible decisions. But Yebin’s mother left her with me, in the clinic, and I’m thankful for that. She could have abandoned her anywhere else, and things could have gone tragic.”

“Well,” Jimin said, patting Namjoon’s arm as he passed by, “have fun with your new baby, dad. I’ve got to get back out there and work on hunting Hoya down. But I’ll be by the clinic later, Jin, when you start your shift.”

Seokjin might have been irritated at the idea of his added security hanging around, but now he was responsible for Yebin, so a little extra cushion to ensure her safety, if Kibum or Jonghyun didn’t come back in time to the apartment, sounded great.

Taehyung picked his laptop up and put it into a nearby bag. He lifted the strap of the bag over his head and said, “I’ve got to get going, too. Suho’s guy may only have access to video cameras in this city, but I’m gonna try and lean on some other people about going further out.”

 “Discreetly,” Namjoon told him.

Taehyung called out, “Of course. Bye, Jin.”

“Bye,” Seokjin called after him. And then it was just him, Namjoon, and the baby.

Since Yebin was still sleeping, and soundly at that, Seokjin didn’t think there was any justification in waking her up. So instead he picked up the sparse number of dishes that had been scattered around the living room by Namjoon, Taehyung and Jimin, and took them to the kitchen to wash them.

Namjoon followed after lazily, asking, “That’s a pretty big move those two are making.”

“I know,” Seokjin agreed, turning the water on in the sink. “But it is true that Kibum and Jonghyun have been talking about starting a family relatively soon, so maybe this isn’t such a huge thing. I mean, they’re skipping the surrogacy route that they likely would have gone down, and opting for adoption instead, but I guess I’m not really that surprised. Jonghyun never really knew how to handle kids, but he’s kind of a natural. I can assure you he doesn’t love the irony.”

Namjoon leaned on the countertop and posed, “What do you want?”

“What do you mean?”

Namjoon seemed to be gnawing on his words for a moment, before he clarified, “Do you want to adopt, or have a surrogate?”

This, in a lot of ways, felt huge, because he had to remind Namjoon, “Just a little while ago you got constipated even thinking about our future with children.” And that was putting it mildly. They’d broken up over it, and nearly not gotten back together. But now Namjoon was the one bringing the subject up, and seemed genuinely interested in what Seokjin had to say about the topic.

Pointedly, Namjoon said, “I’m still not confident like you are, that we’re going to be in a safe enough position at any time that we can have kids. But … but if you’re right, and that time comes, we should be prepared. We should talk about this, and know what we want.”

Seokjin left the water running and leaned over to kiss Namjoon.

“What was that for?” Namjoon asked.

 Seokjin returned, “I need a reason to want to kiss you?”

“No.” Namjoon went a little red in the face. “It just really felt like I was getting rewarded for something.”

Seokjin grinned. “Go look at the baby for a second.”

Uncertain, Namjoon gave a shrug and walked the short distance back to the archway that separated the two rooms. He glanced over at Yebin, and reported, “She’s fine. Still sleeping.”

Seokjin asked him, “And if she was ours, if we were ready for kids and she was ours, would it matter to you if she had our blood at all?”

Namjoon’s face softened as he made his way back to Seokjin to say, “No.”

“Do I like the idea of having a baby that’s biologically related to me or to you?” Seokjin posed. “Of course I do. I’d love to have a piece of either of us to hold in my arms. But how much we’re going to love our baby isn’t going to be dependent on if they’re related to us.”

“But you have to have a preference?”

Truthfully, Seokjin said, “I guess ultimately, I’d prefer that we adopt. There are a lot of kids out there without homes, Namjoon. A lot. Look at Jimin. He ended up in a boy’s home at such a young age. He should have had the opportunity to be raised by a family who desperately wanted him, and there are a lot more children than there are homes out there. I’m not sure I feel okay bringing a new life into this world, when there are so many out there already that need someone to love them.”

Namjoon said, “And surrogacy is really expensive. You know, we’re not hurting for money, but it’s very expensive.”

Seokjin got back to washing the dishes and said, “Adoption isn’t easy. The system isn’t easy to work with, and Jonghyun and Kibum are probably about to learn how frustrating it can be. But I think we’d do well with adopting.”

“And,” Namjoon said with a small laugh, “we could get a kid already out of their diapers, and skip the getting peed on experience completely.”

Because they were taking honestly about the subject, Seokjin didn’t feel ashamed admitting, “I really want a baby, Namjoon. I want to change diapers, and push the stroller, and have those midnight feedings.”

With his elbows leaned up on the countertop, Namjoon suggested, “Then maybe a baby the first time and someone a little older after that?”

“The first time?” Seokjin wasn’t sure he was hearing things properly.

With a grin full of teeth, Namjoon told him, “I could see us having more than one kid together. Two is a nice number, isn’t it? And with two, they’d never outnumber us.”

Two. Two actually sounded quite nice. Maybe a boy and a girl? And he really liked the idea of having a baby the first time around, to really cement the full effect of what it was to be a parent, but adopting older after that. Everyone wanted a baby, and Seokjin had enough familiarity with the system to know that the older children got, the less likely it was that they’d be adopted. If he and Namjoon could give a home to an older child, it would mean a lot.

“What does it matter if they outnumber us,” Seokjin said lightly. “We’re always going to be total softies and give in way more often than we should.”

Namjoon insisted, “That’s okay, as long as they never realize it.”

Twenty-five minutes later the dishes were done, and Seokjin was stepping out of the shower to get his day started finally. He’d just moved in front of the mirror in the bathroom to shave, when Yebin’s cry echoed through the apartment.

“You’ve got the timing of a champion, kid,” Seokjin said with a sigh, setting the razor down.

Namjoon called out suddenly, “I’ve got her!”

Seokjin cracked open the bathroom door, letting all the warmth out of the small room. “Are you sure?”

Again, Namjoon’s voice drifted to him, “I’m sure!”

Seokjin trusted him, so he closed the door, muffling Yebin’s cries, and got to work shaving.

Yebin’s cries ended before Seokjin even fished shaving, and he took that as a good sign. And it was still quiet in the apartment when he emerged from the bathroom, fully clean, freshly shaven, and dressed. He deposited his dirty clothes in the hamper nearby, and then went in search of the other people in the apartment.

Namjoon was pacing in a leisurely way in the living room, holding Yebin in a comfortable and familiar way, feeding her from a bottle. She was sucking happily at the bottle, and seemed very content in Namjoon’s arms.

Seokjin could related.

“Wow,” Seokjin whistled out, watching the two of them. “Very impressive.”

Namjoon gave him a coy smile. “I never said I didn’t like kids.”

“You never said you were this good with them.”

“This is good?” Namjoon questioned dismissively. “She just needed a diaper change and was hungry. Any adult mildly competent could manage this.”

Seokjin didn’t want Namjoon to sell himself short, and was sure to say, “I’m impressed, no matter what you say. And honestly, from where I’m standing, you’re making a very attractive picture.”

In fact, Seokjin wouldn’t have shied away from admitting that Namjoon looked the most attractive now, holding a baby in their living room, than he ever had. Maybe that ought to have been weird, but Seokjin though it was probably just a reflection on how he was aging, and considering his future, and what a good future looked like to him. The best future possible absolutely involved Namjoon and a baby.

Seokjin let Namjoon finish feeding Yebin, and then he took over burping her while Namjoon took his own shower. Seokjin took special care to keep her happy and entertained as time passed, wanting her in a good mood when Kibum or Jonghyun came back to get her.

And like he’d decided before, Yebin was a happy baby. She was a good baby. She just needed the right kind of attention from someone who knew what they were doing.

“Heading off to work now?” Seokjin asked when Namjoon came back into the living room, slotting his belt through his pant loops. “To see Yoongi or Suho?”

Namjoon admitted, “With that security footage V managed to put together last night, we’ve got a lot to go over. Suho and I need to rethink our strategy, now that we know Infinite is, in all likelihood, operating outside of Seoul. What about you? Does having Yebin here change your morning?”

Seokjin glanced to the clock nearby, which said it was just a little after nine, and decided, “I think I’ll take Yebin down to the corner convenience store to pick up a couple of items. Kibum packed the foldable baby carrier into Yebin’s bag that straps to my chest, so I’ll still be able to carry a bag back, too.”

Nervously, Namjoon asked, “You’re going to go out by yourself with Yebin?”

“Just a down to the corner,” Seokjin laughed out. “It’s going to be hot again today, so I’d like to see her get a bit of sun before then, and the fresh air will do her good.” Seokjin reminded, “Don’t worry. I’m sure an army of your people will follow us.”

Namjoon looked between Yebin and Seokjin.

“What?” Seokjin asked.

Namjoon reasoned out, “I don’t have to go talk to Suho right away. How’d you like some company on that walk?”

That was how Seokjin found himself walking down the street with a happy Yebin strapped to his chest, and Namjoon walking alongside him, fifteen minutes later.

“This,” Namjoon said slowly, seemingly relishing in the lingering gentle warmth of the sun coming down on him, “is kinda nice.”

Yebin cooed happily as she pulled at the buttons on Seokjin’s collared shirt.

“It is,” he agreed, and let his fingers slot against Namjoon’s.

They were only walking to the corner store, and Yebin wasn’t their baby. But for just a second Seokjin could picture that they were a happy family, taking a stroll in the park on a lazy Saturday morning, perfectly happy in every way that mattered.

Seokjin saw it as a vision of the future, the best possible future he’d thought of earlier. And no matter how long it took to get there, or what he had to sacrifice along the way, it was still a future worth fighting for. And Seokjin was nothing, if not a fighter.


	28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Because Seokjin could tell that Jonghyun’s eyes were starting to glaze over, he took pity on the man and said, “I guess that’s all we really need to talk about today. They rest can wait for another day. But I definitely wanted to keep you in the loop on the amount of invites we’ve been getting, and I want your input on what our course of action should be.”

He and Jonghyun did this frequently. They met in each other’s offices and went over things for the clinic that mostly only they were privy to, or could be considered delicate in nature. This time there was nothing delicate about the matter at hand, but Seokjin was starting to feel overloaded by some things, and Jonghyun was a good person to bounce ideas off of.

“I say,” Jonghyun told him, in such a typical fashion that Seokjin probably could have predicted what came next, “we tell those bastards to get lost. They didn’t want anything to do with us when we were struggling to keep our doors open, but now that we’re the city’s darling they’ve changed their minds? Screw them.”

Seokjin didn’t really think telling the prestigious medical board of South Korea to get lost, was something they could really do.

“We can’t say it like that,” Seokjin reminded.

 “Meh,” Jonghyun said, shrugging one shoulder. “I know for a fact they were rooting for us to fail from the start. They didn’t like that we weren’t playing by the rules, and that we essentially broke the mold on medical care in Seoul. But now they want to kiss our ass since we’ve been getting global recognition? I’m serious. Screw them.”

Seokjin knew several members of the board. Some of them he knew from medical school, and others had been acquaintances of his father’s. But all of them, he was certain, were absolutely making a publicity fueled push at the moment. None of them really cared that the clinic had been started for the poorer, disenfranchised members of the community, or that the clinic had remained that way even as its popularity had surged.

Currently they were inviting representatives of the clinic to a sponsored luncheon, where press were sure to attend, and Seokjin was sick at the thought of the clinic being exploited.

The thing was, he got all kinds of invites from month to month. There was no shortage of other hospitals, doctors, universities, or groups, asking to meet for various reasons. Seokjin was starting to get buried in the requests, there were so many of them.

Which was why he needed Jonghyun’s input.

Brashly, Jonghyun said, “I’m not saying all these people who want us to attend lectures, or seminars, or whatever, are greedy bastards who want to use us for our name. But most of them are. So ignore all the requests.”

That didn’t sit well with Seokjin either.

Shaking his head, Seokjin said, “I want to take some time next week to narrow down the correspondence that actually seems worth our while. I don’t want the few genuine requests, made by people who could need us, to get lot in the pile of crap that seems to be building every day.”

Even at that, Jonghyun had to say, “I got an email from the head of the Autism Awareness Society based out of Busan. She heard about the techniques Hongbin has been implementing with the growing number of children he’s seeing that have autism. She asked to speak with us about spreading awareness about this sort of thing.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Seokjin said. And he was rather proud of what kind of doctor Hongbin was already, but especially so since he’d learned that Hongbin had been taking extra protections to cater to his autistic population that there was a significant influx of lately. He only had a little over a half dozen or so of patients with the diagnosis, but he had started instituting new policies with them that ranged from admitting them earlier in the day so they weren’t overwhelmed by the crowds, to adjusting the lights in rooms and playing specific kinds of white noise.

 Seokjin decided, “Me and you, we’re going to go through the requests next week. Just a couple of hours, okay? But we have to do it. We can ignore anyone who looks like they’re just seeking us out for some free publicity. But we have an obligation to spread goodness where we can, and there are some people who can genuinely benefit from our clinic.”

Jonghyun gave in fairly quickly, saying, “I’ll work it into my schedule somehow, though don’t ask me how that’s going to happen. Jin, you didn’t tell me how hard it was to balance a family life with a professional one.”

“I don’t have a family life to tell you about,” Seokjin laughed out.

“You have Bangtan,” Jonghyun supposed, “that’s close enough. It’s kind of like having children, right?”

“Most of them would beg to differ,” Seokjin insisted, “but you’re welcome to run that statement by any of them if you want.”

Jonghyun only rolled his eyes. “What I’m getting at is, being a parent is hard.” He did look a little more worn thin than usual, but he also looked a lot happier than he’d been in the past. In the few short days Jonghyun had had Yebin back, his whole demeaner had changed, and certainly for the better. “Key’s a miracle worker as far as I’m concerned, and if he wasn’t there at home with her, I would be able to come to work.”

“Is he okay being at home with her?”

Jonghyun said flatly, “If you tried to suggest he do anything but that, you might end up tossed off the balcony or something equally as dramatic. Who knows if it’ll last, but he’s loving being home with her. And me? I’m seriously just thankful, and suddenly a lot more grateful that I have a partner who can do that. A lot of people—probably most, aren’t that lucky.”

Seokjin countered, “You make a decent wage here. You make a lot more than you used to when we first opened our doors. You could afford daycare if Kibum wanted to go back to work.”

“Sure,” Jonghyun agreed, “and I’m thankful for that. Because like I said, a lot of people don’t have that kind of extra cash to spend on childcare. I’m lucky. Very lucky. And also, seriously, remember when I told you Kibum makes more in a month than I make in a year? I mean that. He’s not retired by any stretch of the imagination, but even if I wasn’t working for whatever reason, and he never went back to modeling or his clothing line, we’d be perfectly fine. Again, that’s me being lucky.”

Seokjin had never really stopped to think about how expensive children were. He’d taken for granted, at least a little, the life he’d come from. Before the clinic, he’d never know the struggle to pay bills, and his father had always had an allowance for him—even through college and medical school. When Seokjin had gone out on his own to open the clinic, money had been impossibly tight, and he’d spent endless nights in bed tossing and turning from the stress. But he’d never gone hungry, or had a bill he couldn’t pay. He’d never known the kind of life that others did.

And to put the cost of a child on top of that?

“You think he’ll go back to work?” Seokjin asked curiously.

Jonghyun gave a certain nod. “Eventually the novelty of being a stay at home dad will wear off, and he’ll be itching to work again. I know him. I know his tendencies.”

“And then your parents will watch Yebin?”

In a horrified way, Jonghyun said, “My parents touch Yebin over my dead body.  Jin, I have told you horror stories about them before. About how they spent every waking moment of my childhood criticizing me for not being good enough. And it never mattered what I did to make them happy, it was never enough. I will never expose her to them. I barely even send them New Year’s presents every year.” Jonghyun gave a shudder. “When Key wants to go back to work, we’ll work something else out with Yebin.”

Seokjin pushed away from his desk and stood up, stretching.

He’d been certain they were leaving the conversation behind when Jonghyun said suddenly, “I’m sure we could always have Uncle Jin and Uncle Namjoon watch Yebin. From what I hear, you two handled Yebin like a pro.”

Seokjin was more than a little happy to say, “Namjoon is very good with kids. It’s something I always suspected, but it’s nice to know.”

“For the future,” Jonghyun ribbed.

Seokjin didn’t want to get into their personal business, but he did admit, “You’re not the only one who’s been talking with his partner about kids and the future. I’m not saying Namjoon and I are going to run off and adopt a child tomorrow, but these are important conversations to have. Especially with the person I want to have children with.”

Humming easily, Jonghyun said, “Well, get on it. I’d like Yebin to have a cousin to play with.”

“I said when we’re ready,” Seokjin told him, the both of them heading for the door to the office. “And that day is definitely not now. We’re both still young. We want to enjoy each other first, and get married, and then have time as a married couple, before we think about anything else.”

“Marriage,” Jonghyun said, “is not necessary for having a baby.”

“No,” Seokjin agreed, “and for some people, marriage is not a thing for them at all. But Namjoon and I want that. So don’t rush us.”

“Rush you,” Jonghyun scoffed. “That boy probably wanted to put a ring on your finger the first moment he saw you.”

Seokjin almost told Jonghyun had close he was to the truth.

Instead, his stomach did the talking for him, and it rumbled loudly, embarrassingly so, and reminded the both of them that they were overdue for lunch.

Jonghyun stepped out into the busy hallway and asked, “Who’s turn is it to pick lunch today?”

Once a week, typically on a Friday or Saturday, and when the bulk of the staff were working, Seokjin treated them all to lunch. He and Jonghyun usually split the bill, and they’d long agreed that sort of thank you to the staff was more than deserved. Everyone at the clinic worked hard, and they all deserved to be treated to lunch once in a while.

Seokjin guessed, “Irene?”

Seokjin knew he was wrong before Jonghyun said, “No, she was two weeks ago, and Lizzy was last week. I think it’s the kid today.”

“It is,” Seokjin agreed, after he thought about it a few more seconds. “Where is he?”

“Break room,” Jonghyun supplied. “When you tell him it’s his turn, push him towards pizza, will you?”

“No promises,” Seokjin called after Jonghyun as he ducked into his own office.

Samuel was, like Jonghyun had said, in the staff break room. But from the moment Seokjin stepped through the door, he’d known something was wrong. At least there was something wrong with Samuel’s disposition. For the most part, the kid was bubbly and peppy, even if he was a touch sassy while being so. Samuel, maybe just because he was a teenager, was always reeking of energy, and could hardly ever been found in the same spot twice.

But none of those things made sense when Seokjin looked at Samuel now, alone in the employee room, seated on the sofa by the window, staring down at his phone with an upset expression on his face. He wasn’t moving, and barely even looked to be breathing, and he just … he looked so sad.

“You okay?” Seokjin asked, crossing over to him.

Samuel fumbled his phone for a second, then seemed to do his best right away to hide whatever had been making him sad. He plastered a huge, but ultimately fake, smile to his face, and asked, “You need something, Doctor Kim? I’m about to take my break. I’m not slacking off. I promise.”

Samuel’s words unsettled him even further, and he assured, “It’s okay for you to stop and take a break when you need it—official or not. You’re not on the payroll, technically. And you’ve more than proven yourself to be a good worker. I hope you know no one is going to be angry at you for sitting down. Everyone only has good things to say about you.”

The smile on Samuel’s face fractured just a little, and looked even more fake, as he said, “Sorry, Doctor Kim, but I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Believe it,” Seokjin insisted. “Even Jonghyun says good things about you. Because you’re a good kid.”

A hint at the real Samuel broke through as he chortled out, “I’m sixteen. I’m definitely not a kid.”

“Okay,” Seokjin agreed with his own laugh. “Maybe you’re not. But I’m serious. You’re a valued member of this staff, and we trust you to know your own limits.”

“That’s … that’s really nice of you to say, Doctor Kim.” Samuel’s shoulders hunched in a little.

Seokjin, more confident that something was going on, sat in the seat across from Samuel, and said, “It’s just the two of us in the room here, and anything you say to me can be in absolute privacy.”

“Okay,” Samuel said slowly.

Seokjin tried to give him a supportive look. “Are you okay? You look upset.”

“I’m fine,” Samuel said a little too quickly.

Being Jungkook’s brother had given Seokjin more than enough patience to pace the conversation properly. And technically Jungkook was still a teen, even if he was moving into adult territory quickly, so Seokjin knew how to handle kids that age.

“Fine is okay,” Seokjin told him casually. “But when I say I’m fine, just like most people, I don’t really mean I am. Fine is just … fine is a safe answer. And when you’re not fine, you just want a safe answer.”

Samuel seemed to contemplate the words.

“If you weren’t fine,” Seokjin broached, “you could tell me why not, if you wanted. I know I’m not your cousin, and I know I’ve been a stickler to you about how you talk to me or anyone else here in Korea that’s older than your or demands respect, but all of that can go out the window for this. If you’re not fine, which is okay and normal, then we can just be two people talking to each other.”

In a cheeky way, Samuel asked, “If we’re just two people talking to each other, can I call you Jin?”

In that moment Samuel reminded Seokjin so much of Jungkook it was almost ridiculous.

“Yes,” he agreed. “If it makes you more comfortable, you can call me by my name.”

Seokjin watched the indecision play out across Samuel’s face as he debated if he was going to say what was really bothered him. And for just a moment, it looked like pride, or stubbornness, or worry was going to win out. But then Samuel took a deep breath, and sat up a little straighter.

It was still some more time before he said anything, but when he did, it was to tell Seokjin, “My parents sent me my boarding pass today.”

“Boarding pass?” Realization lit through Seokjin. “Oh, to go back to California.”

Samuel gave a small nod, and then he held his phone up to show Seokjin the boarding pass displayed on his phone. Seokjin noted that Samuel’s parents had put him in first class for the long flight back, which meant that they must have been highly impressed with the news about him that was being reported back.

Seokjin himself had told Yunho several times how much Samuel continued to surprise him.

“What’s the problem?” Seokjin asked. Samuel was flying first class back to a life he hadn’t wanted to leave in the first place. He was flying back to a big house in Anaheim, back to his friends and his car and his credit card, back to everything he knew. Seokjin couldn’t see what the problem was.

“It’s … I …”

Samuel clammed up again, but Seokjin wouldn’t let himself get frustrated. Instead, he waited.

Samuel let the screen on his phone go dark.

When it became clear that Samuel was struggling to find his words, Seokjin asked, “Did you have a fight with your parents? Or Yunho?”

Samuel shook his head, “No.”

Seokjin watched the way Samuel lit his phone up again, looking down at the boarding pass with … with contempt?

Seokjin hazarded a guess, “You’re not happy about leaving?”

Samuel’s eyes snapped over to him, and Seokjin knew he’d guessed right.

And it was baffling.

Then, like a dam breaking, Samuel said, “My mom was so happy the last time I talked to her—early this morning. She was so happy I was coming home, and she could see me again, and she kept taking about the school year starting in August, and how much she missed me and … and … and all I could think about was how much I didn’t want to see her again.” Samuel corrected himself quickly, “I mean, how much I didn’t want to go back to America. How much I wanted to stay here, in Korea.”

That was certainly unexpected. But maybe it shouldn’t have been. Samuel was staunchly American, even if his Korean was noticeably awkward at times but generally very good. Form the way he spoke, to his mannerisms, to his personality, everything was American. But he’d taken to Korea like a duck to water. After only a slight bump settling in, Samuel had begun to fit in like he’d bene raised in Korea.

“He doesn’t tell me everything,” Yunho had said once, “in fact, Samuel’s a teenager so he doesn’t tell me much of anything, but I know he’s made friends. And he’s more comfortable here than I could ever have imagined. It’s like he was born to be here.”

Seokjin recalled those words now with startling clarity.

“Have you told your parents?” he asked.

Samuel did not look impressed with the question. “Why bother? School starts in like five weeks. What would it matter if I like it here, and want to stay here, and I feel like I fit in here?”

Seokjin wondered, “You don’t fit in back in California? The way Yunho tells it, aside from finding school very boring, you were very popular among your peers, and you were active in the theater department, and you had a very social life.”

Samuel’s face scrunched up. “I can’t explain it. Nothing’s wrong with my life in California—and yeah, I know how privileged a life I’ve got there. But here? Here it feels like I matter, or like I’m doing something important, or contributing, or just … I don’t know.”

Kindly, Seokjin reminded, “You’re sixteen, which is the age to work in the States, I’m pretty sure. When you get back to California, get a job. You’re a good worker. I’d be happy to send you off with a recommendation.  Or any of the other doctors would here. You could—”

Samuel snapped out, almost at a startling volume, “I like you, okay!” Samuel seemed shocked at his own outburst, but continued, “I like this clinic. It’s not just a job. I like the people who work here, and the patients. I like that you guys make me feel like I’m doing something good and worth my time. No one made me feel that way back home. And I like my friends in Seoul. People here aren’t like they are back in America. At least where I’m from. There, all anyone cares about is how much money you have, or how pretty you are, or what you can do for them. Here? My friends don’t care about any of that. They just like me for me.”

“Samuel,” Seokjin said softly.

But Samuel seemed caught up in his own thoughts now, as he said, “I liked my school back home, but I felt stupid there a lot of the time. And yeah, I was in theater, and I guess I’m good at it, but I definitely got all my parts because of the hefty donations my parents made to the school. So yeah, that kind of cheapens it. But Jin—Doctor Kim …everything I have here, I feel like I earned and I deserve. I didn’t get that feeling back home.”

Seokjin couldn’t help teasing a little, “You have a passion for cleaning bedpans here?”

“No,” Samuel said, with such gusto he surprised Seokjin, “but I think I have a passion for helping people, and being a part of something, and I’ve never felt that way before. I matter here. I contribute here. I love that.”

“You don’t miss California at all?”

“I miss the beach,” Samuel admitted. “And I do miss my parents. But here? Everything is better here. And now I have to leave.”

There was such defeat in Samuel. There was such sadness because of it.

Seokjin reached out and tapped Samuel’s knee. “It’s your turn to pick lunch today. No pressure, but Jonghyun wants you to know pizza is preferred.”

“I like pizza,” Samuel said easily.

“Come on.” Seokjin stood, offering a hand down to Samuel. “Let’s go place an order for some pizzas, there’s a good shop not far from here, and we’ll get a drink and talk some more about how you’re feeling.”

“But,” Samuel said in a confused way, “my lunch break isn’t long enough for all that.”

Seokjin continued to hold his hand out for Samuel and pointed out. “I’m sort of the boss around here. I think I decide how long of a lunch break you get to take.”

“Oh,” Samuel said softy, and he let himself take Seokjin’s hand. He added, “You’re a really good big brother. Jungkook always says it, and it’s true. I know you’re not my big brother, but sometimes you sound how I’d want my big brother to, and I like it. That’s what I’m getting at …awkwardly …”

Seokjin countered, “You’re a really good employee. Maybe I want to keep you. And make it a little more official?”

“I wish,” Samuel huffed out.

“Let’s go get pizza,” Seokjin said again.

The placed their order twenty minutes later, and then Seokjin took Samuel to a nearby café while they waited for their order, and got them iced coffees.

“It’s decaf,” Seokjin said sharply when Samuel eyed the drink.

“Sorry, jeeze,” Samuel whistled out.

“I know Jonghyun told you caffeine is basically off limits for me,” Seokjin said. “Don’t play coy.”

Samuel copped right away. “Yeah sort of. He told me like the second day I started at the clinic that you’ve got a bad heart, and if I did anything to startle you or hurt it, he’d use me as a cadaver to practice on.”

Seokjin held back some laugher and asked, “Do you know what a cadaver is?”

Squinting a little, Samuel asked, “A test subject?”

Seokjin knocked his coffee up against Samuel’s gently and informed him, “The kind that isn’t breathing anymore.”

Samuel blanched, but laughed when Seokjin did.

They’d taken refuge in the cool café, and proceeded to out from the midday sun, sipping on their coffee drinks, watching people drift by.

Seokjin asked, “If you could have your future look the way you want it to, what would it look like?  I’m talking the next six months?”

Samuel took a long drink from his coffee, thinking about his answer, and then said, “I’d stay here, obviously. I’m not sure Auntie and Uncle would want—”

“Just tell me what you’d want, if you had your way,” Seokjin interrupted.

Samuel started again, “I’d stay here, and go to school here. I’d work here, at the clinic, and maybe even get paid. I’d get to stay with my friends, and with … well … I’d get to stay. That’s it. Just that.”

Seokjin weighed those words.

Before he could answer, Samuel was pressing on in a negative way, “But that’s a stupid thing to dream, because the schools here in Korea are wicked competitive, and I’m a shitty student and my grades are terrible, and that’s on top of the fact that I’d need a student visa to be here for school. So I don’t see why this is important at all.”

“Because,” Seokjin told him frankly, “when I was younger I had a million people telling me what my limitations were. I had more people than you will ever know in your life, telling me that I’d never work in a fast paced, tension filled field like the medical one I’m currently in. More people than you might believe told me I’d have a short life if I didn’t slow down, and stop pushing myself, and they gave me all kinds of horrible statistics.”

Samuel watched him with wide, almost awed eyes.

“You know what I did?”

Samuel shook his head.

“I didn’t care,” Seokjin said. “I had my dreams, and it didn’t matter how impossible they seemed, or people told me. I didn’t doubt myself, and I went for it anyway.”

“Your dream was to be a doctor. Mine is to stay in Korea.” Samuel scoffed, “I hardly think they’re comparable.”

Seokjin shrugged. “So what do you do if you stay in Korea? Just go to school?”

Samuel drank more of his coffee before saying, “I work more at the clinic, and maybe I’d get to spend more time with the patients. Then I’d think about college, and majoring in a field that helps people, like medicine, or psychology, or I don’t know, something that matters.”

Seokjin bumped their shoulders together. “Then your dream isn’t just to go to school, is it? Rather, it’s to be someone who helps others.”

Samuel was quiet for a long time after that, almost the entire time it took to finish their coffee and start the walk back to the pizza place. But before they left, Samuel said, “A dream is only something worth having if there’s at least some small chance that it can be a reality. There’s nothing realistic about my dream.”

“Samuel—”

“Thanks for listening, Doctor Kim,” Samuel said, sounding so sad again. “I really appreciate it. But I also don’t want to talk about it anymore, okay?”

“Okay,” Seokjin said. “Let’s walk back now. Unless you want another coffee? I’ll buy you another coffee if you want.”

Samuel said, in an amazed way, “You’re a really good hyung, too.”

“You just haven’t known me long enough not to be more irritated than awed,” Seokjin joked. “If you believe Jungkook, it’ll come.”

“If that’s the case,” Samuel said, pushing out of the café and into the heat, “I’m kind of glad I’m leaving now. This is how I want to remember you.”

No, Seokjin decided as he watched Samuel walk away, he was not going to stand for this.

Of course because it was a Friday at the clinic, it was a busy day. Their patient load always jumped once the weekend was threatening to start, and Seokjin found himself so tied up in the clinic’s affairs that he didn’t have time to focus on anything but the patients once he and Samuel got back with the pizza.

And that was okay, because Seokjin never felt more content than when he was focused on his patients. It made the day fly by from him, and before he knew it, it was dark outside, and the bulk of the day staff were leaving.

Samuel, in particular, was practically sprinting out the front doors the moment it hit seven, and Seokjin was a little disappointed because he’d wanted to talk to him some more. But it was probably just as well, because Samuel had said he didn’t want to, and Seokjin knew he could be pushy at times.

“He’s got a hot date,” Raina laughed out when she caught Seokjin watching Samuel leave.

Seokjin looked to her. “Samuel?”

“Not tonight, the way I hear it,” she said indulgently, “but tomorrow, so he’s going to find something nice to wear. It must be the same boy he’s been seeing for the past couple weeks.”

“Wait, wait,” Seokjin said, feeling like the world was screeching to a stop. “Samuel’s been dating?”

“I’m not surprised he didn’t tell you,” Raina said casually. “You’re his boss. Teenagers don’t want to talk to adults about their romantic lives, especially when those adults are in charge of them. I’d be surprised if Yunho even knows.”

Seokjin wasn’t surprised that someone had been drawn to Samuel. After all, the kid had a larger than life personality when he was in his element, and was very, very attractive. But Seokjin supposed the shock came more from the idea of Samuel being willing to date anyone knowing his time in Korea was limited.

Though teenagers and young people were often interested in no strings attached relationships, or the kind that were temporary from the start. It hardly seemed like Samuel would be hunting for his soulmate at sixteen. He was certainly interested in something very opposite that.

“I don’t think Yunho knows,” Seokjin agreed. “He’d probably be losing his mind if he did.”

Raina giggled a little. “Makes me want to tell him, just to see his face.”

Outside the clinic Samuel was making good time to the bus stop just around the corner, his legs almost moving in a blur.

“He could have asked to leave early,” Seokjin said absently. “It wouldn’t have been a problem.”

Raina announced, “Excuse me. I can’t focus on anything but Key and the baby now.”

“What?”

Seokjin’s confusion was alleviated when Kibum came into view, Yebin in his arms, to pick Jonghyun up for the night. Kibum had stopped to chat with someone he knew in the nearly empty waiting room, and Yebin was behaving herself by waving around a plush toy she had clutched in one fist.

“I’ll get Jonghyun,” Seokjin said, heading back to where he knew the man was, filing way information on all the supplies he’d used that day.

“I’m almost finished,” Jonghyun said when he saw Seokjin appear in the doorway of the room he was in. “I took a lot more walk-ins today than I usually do, so I’m trying to catch up on everything that got used up because we put the order in on Monday for supplies. And I’ve got that big surgery tomorrow morning, plus Sunday I’m taking off. I don’t want to come in here on Monday and not have it together.”

“You’re fine,” Seokjin assured. This was part of the reason he respected Jonghyun so much. Jonghyun was a highly decorated doctor and could have easily thought himself above such a mundane task. They had interns who were capable of doing what he currently was, and at other hospitals, a lot of the more mundane tasks were done by interns. But here was Jonghyun, staying over the end of his shift, to take inventory.

“But we’re still on tomorrow night with Yunho, right?”

Seokjin gave him a firm nod. “I sent Yunho a text earlier and he shot me one back saying we’re absolutely on for drinks tomorrow night. How about I pick you up, and then we go get him?”

With nothing but laughter in his voice, Jonghyun asked, “Are you going to have your car back from your brother by then?”

“Yes,” Seokjin said, not amused. “I told you, I lent him the car this week because this is his last week of classes before testing starts. Yes, he could be taking the bus, but I want him to focus on his tests, and not be stressed.”

“You mother him so much,” Jonghyun said. “He’s not going to fail his tests just because he has to take the bus like all the normal kids at his university.”

Seokjin couldn’t help feeling a little uppity as he relayed, “Look, Jungkook and school have never had a good relationship, so I’m going to do everything in my power for him to succeed.”

Jonghyun only rolled his eyes. “You don’t mother him then, but you definitely treat him like a baby sometimes.”

Seokjin didn’t rise to the bait. He had no qualms about lending Jungkook his car when he could, especially when Seokjin had no shortage of Bangtan members who were more than willing to take him to work in the morning, or pick him up in the afternoon. And when Seokjin had his car, it mostly sat in a parking lot all day. He didn’t see why it wasn’t better to lend it to a much more mobile Jungkook.

That was not babying Jungkook.

Especially since, no matter who’s fault it was, Seokjin felt a little responsible for what had happened to Jungkook’s car. Hoya had been chasing after Seokjin, not Jungkook. Jungkook had just been unfortunate enough to be caught up in it, and his car had paid the price. Seokjin had seen the official paperwork on the car from the mechanic and insurance company. They’d totaled the car and written it off, and now Jungkook was waiting for a check in the mail so he could get a new car.

“Anyway,” Seokjin said. Before he could tell Jonghyun that Kibum and Yebin were there to get him, Yebin’s piercing scream carried back to them in an impressive way.

Jonghyun’s hand stilled over the clipboard and piece of paper he’d been going over. And he asked, “Is that Yebin?”

“That’s what I was coming to tell you,” Seokjin said with a grin. “Kibum and Yebin are here to pick you up.”

Jonghyun supposed, “Key was saying something this morning about wanting to get dinner. I think that’s a terrible idea, considering Yebin’s preference from screaming bloody murder, like she is now. But hey, I hear that’s a part of being a parent—trying to distract your kid enough that they don’t ruin someone’s dinner, so I’ll give it a go.”

Seokjin teased, “You’re a marshmallow, Jonghyun.”

“Excuse me?” Jonghyun demanded.

“Marshmallow,” Seokjin repeated.

In a way that Seokjin hadn’t predicted, Jonghyun’s face went soft in a way, and he admitted, “It’s nice, you know? Having my family come get me from work. I’ve never had a family that cared like that before. And I know it isn’t going to be like this forever, because Key and I are currently in some baby honeymoon state, but it’s still nice. Makes me feel wanted.”

Dropping his voice, so they wouldn’t be overheard in any way, “You’re always wanted, Jonghyun. I’m sorry your parents made you feel unwanted sometimes, or like you’re not worth the effort. But I don’t feel that way, and Kibum doesn’t feel that way, and now you have Yebin, who will never feel that way.”

Jonghyun warned, “I’m going to vomit on you if you don’t stop that Disney princess rhetoric.”

Seokjin pushed off the wall to head away, and called back to him, “Hurry up! Your kid is going to run our patients off.”

Seokjin let himself chat with Kibum for a couple of minutes after that, and then it was back to his office to finish up for the night.

The thing was, now that he’d slowed down for the day, and wasn’t seeing any more patients, and had a little bit of time before Jimin came to get him, the conversation with Samuel earlier was catching back up with him.

And it was bothering him now more than it had earlier.

He couldn’t help thinking about the look that had been on Samuel’s face when he’d mustered up enough courage to tell Seokjin that he’d found something special in Korea, and wanted to stay. Some people, like Seokjin himself, typically had no trouble saying things that were maybe more on the vulnerable side, or emotional. But Samuel was chalk full of bravado, and he was a teenager, and mushy wasn’t a word Seokjin would use to describe him. So it really did mean something that Samuel had been honest with him.

Seokjin felt, because of the way Samuel had confided in him, like he was being compelled to do something about it. He just didn’t know what.

He must have sat there in his office, thinking about Samuel’s predicament, for far too long. Because the sound of knuckles against the doorframe startled him badly some time later, and Joy asked him if everything was okay.

“I’m just thinking,” he said honestly. “I’ve got some things on my mind.”

She frowned, clearly not happy with the answer he’d given, but instead of pushing him, she only said, “Irene and I are going now. We’re the last one’s out. But there’s some guy on a motorcycle waiting in front of the clinic? Irene says he’s a friend of yours.”

A wry laugh bubbled up from Seokjin. “That’s just Park Jimin. You’ve seen him before.”

“Oh,” she said, “the one that frowns at everything and everyone. Him. Yeah. I know him.”

The next time Seokjin laughed, it was a lot stronger, and it felt better. “He’s not some punk, Joy. I can see it on your face, you think he is. He’s just a little … gruff.”

Flatly, she argued, “He glares. All the time.”

“He’s a softie once you get to know him.” Seokjin stood from his desk and started gathering his things up. He put the strap to his bag over his shoulder. “Though he’d probably kill me if he knew I said that to you.”

“Softy,” she scoffed in disbelief. “Right.”

The thing was, a year ago, Seokjin would had been right in her position. He would have been the one in disbelief. But the key to Jimin really was wearing him down over time. Jimin didn’t like people easily, and he trusted them even less. But if one had the time, and the dedication, and was a genuine person, Jimin could be won over.

Seokjin never stopped being thankful he’d won Jimin over, and that had been rough and bumpy and painful at times.

When Seokjin stepped into the lobby, with Irene and Joy pulling ahead, he could absolutely see Jimin out there, sitting on his bike casually, looking at something on his phone. Seokjin set the alarm to the clinic after a couple last checks to the space, locked the door behind him, and then approached Jimin.

“You’re supposed to be paying attention,” Seokjin said when he was close enough that he could speak normally. “That doesn’t look like you’re paying attention.”

Jimin’s head snapped up from where it had been bowed over, and he said, after collecting himself, “No, I’m supposed to be picking you up. They’re the ones paying attention.” Jimin nodded to a car across the street, black with tinted windows, and obviously belonging to Bangtan.

Seokjin leaned over to try and see the screen of the phone Jimin was typing something into. He was chatting with someone, and it was engrossing to him.

“Hey!” Jimin shouted when he realized what Seokjin was doing. “Privacy!”

“Who you talking to?” Seokjin asked, mischievously.

“None of your business,” Jimin said back right away, tapping out a last message on phone and then putting it away. He reached for the helmet hooked onto the back of his bike and handed it to Seokjin, saying, “Be Jungkook’s dad, not mine.”

“You wish,” Seokjin replied, fitting the helmet that still smelled like a Jimmy Choo fragrance over his head.

Jimin started the bike up, putting his own helmet on and asked, “So no trouble today at work?”

“For once,” Seokjin agreed, thankfully, his voice muffled by the full helmet. “Think you can arrange for every day to go like this? It was pretty nice.”

Seokjin could see the smile in his eyes as he replied, “I’ll see what I can do. But I’m no miracle worker like you.”

Carefully, Seokjin threw a leg over the bike and tried to get comfortable on it. He’d gotten a lot better at riding on the back of Jimin’s bike and not feeling like he was going to eat asphalt, but he was never confident as a rider, and he didn’t expect that to change.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Seokjin reminded. “I don’t take bribery, either.”

Jimin’s shoulders shook like he was laughing. “I didn’t think so for a second,” Jimin shouted back to him, then he kicked up the stand on the bike, and off they went.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

If anyone in the car, in that exact moment, had asked him if he was nervous, Seokjin would have had to have said yes. Nervous, actually, didn’t begin to cover what he was feeling.

And he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be consoled or not by the fact that when he looked at Jungkook’s face in the rearview mirror, his brother looked like he shared his sentiment.

Only Namjoon, in the passenger seat, with his face practically pressed up against the glass window, seemed perfectly fine with where they were going. He was, in fact, quite oblivious of the building unease in the car.

“Wow,” Namjoon breathed out as the got closer and Seokjin eased off the gas. Mindful of the air that was going full blast in the car, he hit the button to roll the window down and entered the code on a nearby security box to open the gate in front of them. “I forgot how amazing this place is.”

“It’s nothing special,” Jungkook grumbled irritably from the back seat.

Namjoon craned back towards him. “Maybe for you. But you’ve seen where I grew up. I showed you my old house where I lived with my parents when I was a kid. That’s practically abject poverty compared to this.”

The gate to the underground parking garage opened slowly, much too slowly for Seokjin’s tastes, and he looked up at the building that housed the apartment he’d grown up in. And he felt nothing but trepidation.

“Jin,” Namjoon said, turning to him, “have you done anything to the place since the last time I was here?”

“No,” Seokjin said quietly. The last time Namjoon had been up to the apartment had been the previous Christmas, when his father’s health had already been so frail. They’d done their best to create happy memories during that time, and Seokjin had been able to give Namjoon a good Christmas without his grandparents. But nothing had changed since then.

Seokjin had been back twice, in fact, simply to survey the apartment and talk himself again out of selling. There was still a cleaning service, the same service that his father had used, that came once a week now and kept the apartment in order. And it was probably a waste of money to have the highly lucrative property just sitting vacant with upkeep costs mounting. But Seokjin was no closer to selling now, than he’d ever been before in the past. Maybe today would change something.

Jungkook said quietly from the back, “I don’t need to be here for this.”

Seokjin pulled the car forward, into the garage, and straight towards the spot car had sat in nearly every night his and Jungkook’s father had owned it. Seokjin knew the spot well.

“You do,” Seokjin argued back, but without any bite. If Jungkook had begged out of it earlier, he probably would have given in. But it was possible Jungkook had sensed the need for them both to be there, and hadn’t put up too much of a fight. Hardly one at all, actually.  “You haven’t been back since Christmas, too, and before that, you left a mess of your things behind.”

Seokjin’s own room was still filled with items that would have been collecting dust if not for the cleaning service.  But that room wasn’t his priority. Not today. Maybe not ever, if he never worked up the courage to sell.

He kind of thought he was just waiting for the idea of selling to sound right.

He figured he might be waiting forever.

They parked quickly enough, and then it was a short walk to the lobby of the building, where Seokjin was greeted by name, and then the three of them were riding the elevator up to the twenty-third floor.

Seokjin had to steady himself as he pushed open the front door. The apartment didn’t smell stale in any way. It was clear that despite not being lived in, it was aired out frequently and kept well. But there was weight in the air as he moved over the threshold, and so, so many memories.

“Place looks great,” Namjoon observed, moving through the foyer to toe his shoes off.

“It does,” Seokjin had to agree quietly. He turned the lights on as he went, going straight to the living room, and then to the big curtains that were pulled closed. He knew that floor to roof windows were hidden behind them, and they were revealed a second later.

“Shit,” Namjoon said in a gob smacked away, “that view gets me every time.”

Seokjin still remembered the way Namjoon had stood in front of the windows the first time he’d been in the apartment—the only time. He’d been lit up by the small but quaint Christmas tree next to him, and he hadn’t wanted to move for almost twenty minutes.

The whole matter made Seokjin contemplate when he’s started to take the view for granted, and when he’d become so accustomed to it that it didn’t make him feel anything.

Just a while after that they had the whole place lit up, though it was only half past three and the sun was high, so natural light did more of the work than anything artificial. And Seokjin got the air conditioning going a big more than they usually kept the climate control at.

It was around that time that Jungkook asked, “So what exactly do you want me to do?”

“Honestly,” Seokjin told him, “I want you to clean your room.”

Jungkook deadpanned at him.

“Look,” Seokjin said, running his hands through his bangs, “I’ve just signed the new lease with my name on the property, and that means that they have to do a customary inspection to make sure all of the health codes are being adhered to. I have to find some additional paperwork of dad’s to submit, and I need you to go through your stuff and make sure you’ve got everything you need, and none of dad’s stuff got mixed up in your stuff.”

Bluntly, Jungkook said, “I’m pretty sure our excessively organized father, didn’t put any important paperwork in my room.”

“Then maybe I just want you to clean your room for the sake of cleaning it.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “There is an actual housekeeper for this place.”

“Go,” Seokjin ordered, pointing towards Jungkook’s room down a nearby hallway.

Namjoon came to Seokjin’s side and told him supportively, “If you need me to help, I’m here. I know it can’t be easy for you, being in here. I can tell by the look on your face, you’d rather be anywhere else in the world.”

Seokjin turned in a small circle around the apartment, before remarking, “There’s just a lot of … of history in here. A lot of memories—good and bad.”

In a quiet way, Namjoon said, “I know what you mean.” When Seokjin looked to him, Namjoon said, “I’ve been back to my house. The one I grew up in, when my parents were still alive. When I was younger, I think I was really resentful that my grandparents didn’t hold onto the property. I thought they should have, because it was something they had left of my parents, and good memories were there. But now that I’m older, and after what happened to the Noodle House, I get it.”

“You get how heavy memories can be?”

Namjoon nodded. “I know how suffocating they can be. Even when the memories are good, sometimes they can weigh you down like an anchor in the sea. My grandparents did what they had to in order to move on after my parents died, and they did it for me, too. Right or wrong, they had good intentions, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Seokjin trailed further into the living room, running his fingers over the back of the sofa as he curved around, weaving his way between pieces of furniture and across the floor.

“I’ve been trying to sell this place forever.”

“Not forever,” Namjoon said kindly. “Give yourself a break here. It’s been half a year since your dad died. Maybe you’re not ready. Some people move on right away. Some take a lot longer.”

Seokjin looked out over the city, and he was struck by a memory of being much younger, and pressing up against the glass like Namjoon had been months earlier. He’d been captivated by the sight as a child, but every time he’d gone too close to the windows, his father had warned him not to touch the glass and get his fingers prints on it.

Seokjin had settled, unannounced to his father, for jumping on his bed in his room in order to get high enough to see out of the windows that lined his bedroom wall. It had just never felt the same.

“I shouldn’t feel this attachment, right?” Seokjin asked, twisting back to where Namjoon was standing. “I loved my father very much, and now I know for certain that he loved me more than the oxygen he breathed. But he was hard on me, and that was when he was home. He was absent a lot—he was absent even when he was here. I left home as soon as I could, practically ran out the front door. So this place shouldn’t mean anything to me. I should be able to sell it. I should be able to let go.”

Namjoon tried for some comedic levity, offering, “Hey, I couldn’t sell this place if I had the best memories in the world. That view? I’m not giving up that view for anything if I’m you.”

Seokjin knew he could let the apartment rest in limbo for the remainder of his years, if he wanted. His father’s account was … quite large in terms of a figure on paper. Seokjin was balancing that account along with his own personal finances now. So he knew that his father’s account could handle the upkeep on the apartment without trouble, and the property taxes, and the housekeeping, without breaking a sweat, probably for decades and decades more.

But that felt like a disservice to his father. It almost felt like a disservice to himself. He needed to decide one way or another if he was keeping the apartment—and what to do with it, or if he was selling it. He couldn’t just keep avoiding it and the subject of it, like the plague.

“Hey, Jin?”

Seokjin turned his back on the view and made his way to Namjoon. “Yes?”

There was open conflict on Namjoon’s face as he asked, “When we … when it looked like we might not make it for a couple of days there, why did you go stay with Jungkook? Why didn’t you come here? You have this luxurious apartment that’s paid for, and it’s only half an hour away from the clinic. You could have come here and had your space.”

Seokjin didn’t hesitate to say, “Because I told myself when I left, with my father’s disappointment on my back over the idea to start the clinic, that I was never going to come back here. To live, I mean. I said I was never going to call this my home again, and I meant it. Even if my father and I have cleared the air, and even if I’d be alone here, I can’t go back on something I vowed like that. I just couldn’t do it.”

“Oh,” Namjoon said simply.

Seokjin didn’t expect him to understand, and that was okay.

Seokjin squared his shoulders then and said, “Come on. My father kept all of his important paperwork in the master bedroom closer. I’m honestly shocked that he never turned my bedroom into a home study, after I left. But he kept it exactly the way it was when I lived here. Nothing’s changed. Not even now.”

Those words were reinforced when Seokjin passed by the cracked door to his room, and nudged it open slightly. The beige walls were exactly as they had been, his bed was still made, everything on his desk was lined up properly, and aside from the blinds on the windows pulled down, he felt like it was a page out of history.

“I’ve never been in here before,” Namjoon said at the threshold of the master bedroom.

Seokjin was only a couple of feet ahead of him as he said, “I almost never came in here. My dad was big on privacy, so if we respected his space, he’d respect ours.”

Seokjin took a deep breath in the room. He could almost imagine his father in the room, moving around, touching things, sleeping in the room, reading, thinking, anything. It was like there was an echo of his father in the room, almost in a burdensome way.

“I can almost feel him in here,” Seokjin whispered out.

The flat palm of Namjoon’s hand pressed into the small of Seokjin’s back, and it radiated strength that Seokjin needed to draw on.

Clearing his throat, Seokjin went to his father’s closet and slid the door open. It shouldn’t have been so hard just to look at his father’s shoes and clothing, but he almost felt tripped up by the items.

But then he forced himself to keep going. He’d put it off for too long, and he really did need a couple of important documents that he knew his father had filed away.

Kneeling down, he reached back into the closer and located a milk crate sized box, and pulled it forward. Expectedly, when he popped the top off he could see folders categorized carefully inside, all of them labeled, and alphabetized.

Seokjin thumbed through the files, and behind him, Namjoon said, “I’ve never seen a picture of your mom. Or your sister. Is this them?”

Seokjin paused what he was doing and turned back to Namjoon, only to see his boyfriend standing at his father’s dresser, holding the silver framed photograph that Seokjin had a copy of.

Namjoon angled the photograph towards him.

“Yeah,” Seokjin said, his mouth suddenly dry. “That’s … uh … that’s my mom. And my sister.”

Namjoon ran his fingers across the top of the photograph and remarked, “They were beautiful.”

“Yeah,” he repeated, feeling like he was balancing on uneven ground, clueless as to what to say next.

His eyes tearing away from the photo and to Seokjin, Namjoon said lovingly, “I see where you get your looks from.” When Seokjin blushed, Namjoon continued, “Not like your dad was ugly or anything, but you’re beautiful, Jin. Really. I know that gets under your skin sometimes, because people underestimate you when they see how beautiful you are, but you definitely got your looks from your mom. Your sister did, too.”

Seokjin got slowly to his feet and went to look at the picture. He had a copy, but it was tucked away. He almost disliked looking at it because he felt guilt at a lack of emotional response. He was supposed to feel something when he saw his mother and sister’s pictures, but he had so few memories of them, there wasn’t a lot to feel.

“My sister,” Seokjin said indulgently, looking at her face, “was very pretty.”

She and Jungkook didn’t look a lot alike, with Jungkook taking more after their father, but Seokjin knew he and his sister shared a lot of similar features.

“My dad had a lot of pictures of us,” Seokjin told Namjoon, almost like it was a secret. “And my mother did baby books for all three of us, and especially after I got my diagnosis, she was always snapping pictures of us. Polaroid pictures. I’m talking the old school stuff, where you had to get the film developed, or have one of those special cameras that spit the picture out right away and you waved it around in the air until it was exposed properly. I don’t know what happened to all those pictures, but they’re here somewhere.”

From behind them, Jungkook’s voice came, “What are you looking at?”

Namjoon lifted the photo for Jungkook to see.

Frowning, Jungkook wondered, “What are you guys doing in here?”

“I’m just looking,” Namjoon said defensively.

After a moment of thought, Seokjin abandoned the box of paperwork, and instead waved Jungkook into the room saying, “I want to show you something important.” He pushed past the lump in his throat to say, “Dad asked me to show you this before he died.”

Jungkook went white and he didn’t move from the doorway.

“Come on,” Seokjin prompted again. “This is important.”

Jungkook nudged forward slowly, and eventually got to where Seokjin was, standing at the dresser Namjoon had taken the picture frame off of.

Seokjin ran his hands over the small, decorative box that was sitting on top of it, and then gave it a slow open, trying to be delicate with an item that he knew his father’s grandmother had made in her youth. It was a true family heirloom, having survived war and famine and the split of Korea itself.

Inside Seokjin showed both Jungkook and Namjoon the collection of jewelry that was amassed. It wasn’t a spectacular amount, but there was a hefty price tag attached to each item inside it, from rings to bracelets, to necklaces with diamonds.

“A lot of this was mom’s,” Seokjin said. He reached in for two black pouches made of velvet. The first one he opened and pulled out a simple wedding ring for a man. He tried not to let his hand shake as he said, “I put this one in here. This is dad’s. He told me to take it off his body when he died. He said to put it in here and keep it until Namjoon and I were going to get married.” Seokjin’s eyes rose over Jungkook’s head to where Namjoon was standing behind him. He told the man, “This is the ring I’m going to give to you, when we get married. I know my dad wasn’t the warmest person to you, it was his way, but he wanted you to wear the ring my mom picked out for him when we get married. If you want that, too.”

Seokjin could hear the spotty breath of air Namjoon took in.

“But this,” Seokjin told his brother, reaching for the other pouch, “this one is yours.” From the black bag he took his time pulling out a diamond ring.

Jungkook looked ready to burst into tears. “Jin.”

Seokjin reached out for Jungkook’s hand, and turned his palm up.  “This was mom’s engagement ring. Dad said that this ring is specifically for you. When you find the right person, Jungkook, you’ll know who it is. You’ll know, just like I knew when I met Namjoon. And when you trust that they’ll be with you for as far into the future as you can see, and that they’re the person you want to have a family with, and you trust them with the history of our family, you’re going to pass this ring along.”

Seokjin closed Jungkook’s fingers over the ring.

“I can’t,” Jungkook said shakily.

“Dad wanted you to have it,” Seokjin said firmly. “He knew exactly what he was saying when he told me, and he meant it. In fact, when it stops hurting so much, whenever that is, I have a lot more that dad wanted you to have. But we’ll start with this.”

Jungkook shook his head. “I can’t take this, Jin.”

“Not right now,” Seokjin agreed, letting Jungkook put the ring back in his hand, which went right back into the bag, and the bag was placed back in the box. “But one day you will want this ring, and it’ll be right here when you do.”

A shudder went through Jungkook’s body and Seokjin leaned forward to pull him into a tight hug.

“Dad said so?” Jungkook asked, almost like he didn’t believe Seokjin’s words.

“Told me to my face,” Seokjin assured. “He said to make sure mom’s ring went to you, if you ever get married, and not to let anything happen to it.” Seokjin squeezed him tightly in the hug, and held on for as long as Jungkook seemed to need it.

“Okay,” Jungkook agreed.

That settled, Seokjin asked, “Did you finish cleaning your room?”

“Yes,” Jungkook said in a less than amused way, drawing the word out. “It’s fine.”

“Fine by my standards, or fine by yours?”

Jungkook puffed out his cheeks, looking like he was going to start a fight, and then turned on heel to march back to his room.

Namjoon’s arm came around Seokjin’s shoulders in a heavy but much wanted way, and Namjoon mumbled into his ear, “You’re an amazing big brother. The best.”

“I’m a nag,” Seokjin said, deflecting the praise.

“No,” Namjoon insisted, using his free hand to turn Seokjin’s head to tilt up towards him. “You are an amazing person period.” He gave Seokjin a gentle kiss that soon turned heavy.

“We can’t do this here,” Seokjin said, when Namjoon’s arm slipped off his shoulders and his hand slid down towards Seokjin’s backside. “We can’t make out like this in my deceased father’s room.”

Namjoon pressed a wet kiss to the underside of Seokjin’s jaw, sending shivers through his frame and said, “I don’t think your dad is going to bust in here and reprimand us.”

That was certainly a crass thing to say, but Seokjin was far too hot and worked up to think about any kind of reprimand, not when Namjoon’s hand finally hit his butt and held on tightly.

“Nooooo!” Jungkook crooned dramatically from behind them. “Learn how to shut the door! Oh my god. What’s wrong with you two? Jin, that’s dad’s room, too!”

Seokjin let his head hit Namjoon’s shoulder and he bit back laugher.

“Don’t you torture me enough?” Jungkook’s voice shrieked.

“You brat,” Namjoon laughed out.

“I came back for a question I had,” Jungkook bit out. “And this is what I got. Thanks, Jin. Thanks!”

Seokjin finally pushed off Namjoon’s shoulder and moved back to the closet. He knelt down and called to his brother, “Go to your room, Jungkook!”

“I can’t get there fast enough!” Jungkook shouted back.

Seokjin shook his head a little, then started thumbing through the files again.

“You got everything?” Namjoon asked when they were on their way out the door.

Seokjin had several files with important documents tucked under one arm as he gave Namjoon a nod. “For now, at least. If I need anything else, I can always come back.” Seokjin was still waiting for Jungkook to make an appearance. He’d gone back to his old room and was lingering there, though he’d called out to them that he was on his way.

“Can you?” Namjoon asked without accusation. “It’s taken you a lot to get here this time.”

Seokjin hugged the files a little closer to his chest, and decided, “I was worried about coming here today. To say otherwise would be a lie. But it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It was a lot better than I thought it could be.”

“You did great,” Namjoon said supportively, sneaking a kiss in. “No matter how this turned out, coming here couldn’t have been easy, and you handled it like a pro.” Namjoon wondered, “You any closer to figuring out what you want to do with this place?”

Seokjin asked, “Think we should move in here?”

Namjoon’s eyes went back to the view that was now obscured by the curtains Seokjin had closed a minute earlier. “Gotta say, the view is something amazing. But I like our apartment. Where it is. How we’ve made it a home. All that. It’s not a forever kind of home, but I’m not looking to move right now.”

“I agree,” Seokjin said. And then after a sigh, he admitted, “I still have no idea about this place. But coming here today helped me feel more comfortable here. You helped me feel more comfortable.”

Jungkook came rushing to their side, and old bag thrown over one shoulder and clearly stuffed full of things, “Okay, I’m ready.”

Seokjin eyed the bag. “Did you try and put your whole room in there?”

Jungkook gave a haughty laugh. “When I left here, I couldn’t take everything I wanted. I was half convinced dad was going to try and barricade me in here if I didn’t get out when it did. This is the stuff I always meant to take, but never got around to.”

“Okay, let’s go,” Namjoon said, hooking his fingers through Seokjin’s belt loops and bumping him along.  “Have we got enough time to go grab something to eat at the Noodle House?”

Jungkook turned big eyes on Seokjin. “Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say—”

“Yes,” Seokjin told him, opening the front door and stepping out into the hallway.

“Yes,” Jungkook said victoriously, and scrambled to follow after him.

They didn’t stay long at the Noodle House, just a little over an hour, but Seokjin was glad in the end that they went. He liked being able to sit next to a relaxed looking Namjoon and eat a bowl of ramen that the cook had perfected from Namjoon’s grandmother’s recipe. It gave him a chance to enjoy Namjoon’s company, and reflect on the weight of the memories that had been bearing down on him in the apartment.

Because if he had to be honest, he was likely leaning towards keeping the apartment. He didn’t want to live there. He didn’t have any plans to do anything but let it sit vacant and build property value. But the apartment felt like it had worth on a purely sentimental value. It felt like it was something to hold onto for his children, so he could tell his kids that it was the place his parents had lived in, and had raised their children in, and had the best memories in.

He might pass the place on to his children, or maybe Jungkook would have need of the apartment eventually. Who knew. But getting rid of it because of the ball of anxiety in him over his father’s death, seemed presumptuous on his part. Reactionary.

He hated sitting in limbo with the apartment, but rushing seemed an even worse thing.

“You’re going out tonight, right?” Namjoon asked after Jungkook had already left the Noodle House to take care of some Bangtan business.

Now Seokjin and Namjoon were loitering on the sidewalk outside the Noodle House, spending a last couple minutes together, trying not to bake too heavily in the sun.

“With Jonghyun and Yunho,” Seokjin said. “Because Yunho’s only going to be in town for a little while longer, and who knows how long it’ll be before we see him again.”

Namjoon tucked his hands in his pocket. “You’re not … uh … gonna drink a lot, right?”

Seokjin bit back a lot. “That’s your way of trying to gently remind a doctor that alcohol and prescription medication don’t mix, right?”

Namjoon flushed red.

“I’ll have one drink,” Seokjin told him reassuringly, “so I don’t completely stand out at the bar, but that’s it. I’ve been doing this a long time, Namjoon. Trust me to know what’s good for me and what isn’t.”

Namjoon’s body deflated a little with a sigh, and he hooked a steady arm around the back of Seokjin’s broad shoulders. “I know. I’m just … checking.”

It was utterly adorable, in Seokjin’s opinion, as Namjoon tried not to be overbearing, but was so obviously concerned.

Seokjin added, “I’m also the designated driver, so that should tell you what my plans for the night are. Namjoon, the last time the three of us went drinking together Yunho passed out and had to be literally carried to the car, and Jonghyun started picking fights with everyone from the bar tender, to the bouncer, to the valet across the street. I feel obligated to be sober enough to try and prevent any of that from happening ever again.”

With a small laugh, Namjoon said, “That’s very kind of you.”

“Selfish,” Seokjin corrected. “When that happened, last time? The three of us got banned from the bar for a year. The ban is still in effect. It was embarrassing. We’re not college kids. We’re grown adults with careers and reputations. And we got banned from a bar. Never again.” Seokjin wasn’t exactly upset with the way things had played out, even if he was embarrassed, but he preferred not to go through something similar again.

“You’re not selfish about anything,” Namjoon said confidently. “That’s a problem sometimes. But it works out good for your friends.”

Seokjin let Namjoon steer him towards the car that was parked a little bit away, and asked, “Should I expect you home after me tonight, or before?” He was certainly looking forward to spending time with two of his closest friends, but it would be a nice thing to come home to Namjoon and not an empty apartment.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon told him honestly. “I hope I get home before you, but with Hoya out on the prowl …” Namjoon’s head hung. “I’ve got to find him, Jin. I have to find him before he gets to you, or anyone else. He’s out joyriding in public, so he’s not exactly keeping a low profile, and that tells me a lot about what his goals are, in a way that makes my stomach churn. And the police are so clueless we can’t count on them to get it right.”

“How are you going to find him?” Seokjin asked when they reached the car.

“Extend our search,” Namjoon offered. “And pull some favors, and expend more resources. That’s all we can do right now until someone makes a mistake and gives us an opening.”

Seokjin worried his bottom lip with his teeth for a second, then posed, “Hoya’s definitely carrying a grudge against me, right? For what I did in particular to him?”

Namjoon huffed, “I think it’s safe to say, after what happened to you and Jungkook, that he’s either gunning for you, or he’ll take any opportunity that presents itself, to make a go for you.”

Seokjin popped open the driver’s door and leaned on it a little, before suggesting, “And you need to lure him out, right?  Since he got busted out of jail, he’s gone beyond your reach, and you guys just had your search area widened, not narrowed. So essentially you need him to come to you.”

It took a moment for what Seokjin was getting at, to dawn on Namjoon’s face, and then almost viciously he was saying, “No! No way, Jin! How can you even be thinking something stupid like that?”

Seokjin didn’t think it was stupid at all, as he said, “Think about it. I’m already walking around with a huge target on my back, as far as the matter is concerned. Why not capitalize on it?”

Namjoon grabbed him suddenly, but not roughly, by the upper arms and said almost in a frightened way, “Because you’re not just some tool I can use, Kim Seokjin. And I’m not going to put you in danger like that.”

“I’m already in danger. I’ve been in danger from the start.”

Namjoon shook his head viciously. “I’m not going to dangle you in front of Hoya and hope he takes the bait.” Namjoon’s lips were bloodless as he pursed them hard suddenly, reeking of fear and desperation. “I will never put you in that position. Not even if you ask me.”

“Ask you?” Seokjin arched an eyebrow.

“Not even if you offer or suggest,” Namjoon said without hesitation. “Don’t you dare. I can’t … I can’t …”

It seemed like Namjoon was on the precipice of falling to pieces at the mere mention, and Seokjin was struck with such guilt.

Quietly, Seokjin said, “Just think about it, okay? Run it by Yoongi? I know the idea is something you hate, but it could be one solid shot at flushing Hoya out. Myungsoo and the other members of Infinite? I don’t think I’m their priority. I don’t even know if they’d take a shot at me if they had the chance. But Hoya?” Seokjin stopped to catch his breath, wondering when he’d lost it. “I don’t want to have to look over my shoulder forever because of him.”

“You are asking too much,” Namjoon said dangerously.

“Maybe,” Seokjin agreed. “But if we set Hoya up, with me as the bait, you know he wouldn’t be able to help himself. He’d have to take the bait, and you’d have control of the situation. I trust you, Namjoon. I trust that you’d keep that control, and I’d be fine.”

Shakily, Namjoon said, “You shouldn’t trust me like that.”

Seokjin leaned over, in the bright light of the day, and pressed a firm kiss to Namjoon’s mouth. He told the man, “I trust you with my life. And that’s not a foolish thing.”

Seokjin felt Namjoon catch his wrist, and then his thumb was pressing down on Seokjin’s pulse point to track the beats.

“Just promise me you’ll talk to Yoongi about it,” Seokjin finished. “Because frankly we both know that Hoya is going to take another shot at me eventually. I took him down, and that led to Infinite almost getting wiped out. He is going to try for me again. And I’d rather be in control when it happens. I’d rather have the advantage and see him coming, than be a sitting duck.”

Torment was twisting across Namjoon’s face, and Seokjin couldn’t begin to guess what was going through his mind.

“Talk to him,” Seokjin said again, and then kissed Namjoon one more time. Before he got into the car completely, he said, “Oh, and tonight, when you have half of Bangtan follow me to the bar, and probably a dozen of them come inside with us, ask them not to be so obvious about it? I’m trying to show Yunho a good time before he leaves. I don’t want him to freak out thinking he’s friends with some mob boss’s girl.”

Something akin to ease broke on Namjoon’s face, and he told Seokjin in a lascivious way, “You’re definitely not a girl. I have empirical proof on that.”

Seokjin only shook his head with a smile on his face. “I love you,” he told Namjoon, and then Namjoon was stepping back so he could close the door properly.

Seokjin drove back to the apartment he shared with Namjoon in a leisurely way, and took care of some basic adult responsibilities. He paid the electric bill, he started a load of laundry, and then he got himself ready to go out with his friends.

“You look good,” Jonghyun said when he slid into the car as Seokjin picked him up.

“You do, too,” Seokjin replied, eyeing the casual clothing Jonghyun was dressed in. He was so used to seeing Jonghyun in professional attire, with his white coat on, that it was almost jarring to see Jonghyun looking so normal. “I take it Kibum’s staying home with Yebin tonight?” He’d meant it when he’d extended the invitation to Kibum to go out with them. Kibum was very much welcomed.

Jonghyun buckled his seatbelt and said, “Of course. He’s in full daddy mode right now. I genuinely think he’s going to get tired of Yebin puking on him soon enough, and then he’ll be friendlier to the idea of a baby sitter, but for now, he’d rather stay home with her.”

“And would you?” Seokjin asked before he pulled out of the driveway.

Jonghyun deadpanned, “Hit the gas. I want to hang out with my friends, and drink alcohol, and hopefully remember the night.”

Seokjin didn’t need to be told twice.

Yunho was staying with his parents while he was in Korea, and they lived practically on the fringes of the city, so it took some time to get there. But when they did arrive, the residence’s private driveway was already open for them, and it was lit up brightly.

Seokjin left Jonghyun in the car, answering a phone call from Kibum, and walked up the short distance to the front door. He knocked twice and then stepped back to wait for the door to open.

When it did, Yunho was standing there.

But more importantly, Seokjin got a huge whiff of cologne.

“That smell,” Seokjin remarked. It wasn’t a bad smell, actually, it was just very, very strong.

“I know,” Yunho said right away, slipping his wallet into his back pocket. “You feel like the oxygen is being choked out of your lungs, right?”

It took Seokjin a moment for his brain to catch up to what he was smelling, and then he was remaking in an astonished way, “You wear Jimmy Choo?”

“Jimmy who?” Yunho asked, and when he stepped out of the house and closed the door behind him, Seokjin realized it was wasn’t Yunho who actually smelled.

“The fragrance,” Seokjin supplied. The house reeked of Jimmy Choo, the cologne, just like Jimin’s spare helmet.  “Why does your house smell so strongly of it?”

Yunho rolled his eyes in a dismissive way and said, “Because I currently live with a teenager.”

They started the short walk back to the car, and Seokjin asked, “Samuel?”

“That’s his cologne,” Yunho said easily. “Some really expensive stuff from the States that Auntie buys him way too much of. Don’t worry, I told him a while ago he couldn’t wear it to work at the clinic. But on the weekends? Especially since he went out tonight? That’s one fight I’m not going to pick with him. I hope whoever he’s friends with drop him into the Han River for putting on that much cologne.

Absently, Seokjin said, “It’s a nice smell.” It was just very distinct.

“You try smelling it all the time,” Yunho said back to him. “You won’t think it’s so nice after that.”

When they got back in the car Seokjin asked, “Everything okay with Kibum and Yebin?”

Yunho was getting himself situated in the backseat and remarked, “That still blows my mind. How were you the first one to run off and get a family, Jonghyun?”

“I ask myself that all the time,” Jonghyun confessed. “But I’m not over here complaining.”

Seokjin started the car and belted himself in. Then he turned to look at the other two occupants and said, “Before we go, we need to be perfectly clear about what’s not going to happen tonight.”

“Not?” Jonghyun questioned.

Seokjin nodded. “We’re not going to have a repeat of what happened last time. We’re not going to get kicked out. You two are not going to either pass out or try and pick a fight with the whole bar. Understand?”

Jonghyun turned in his seat to tell Yunho, “You hear this kid over here, acting like he’s squeaky clean?”

Seokjin leveled out, “I didn’t punch the bartender because he suggested you’d puke if you drank anymore.”

“You totally egged us on,” Yunho declared.

Scandalized, Seokjin protested, “I did not. That’s a dirty lie.”

Except Seokjin’s memories of the night were a little … sparse in places. He’d only had a single drink that night, but he might have gotten caught up in the rush of what was happening.

“How about,” Seokjin tried, “we just make a promise to each other right now. We won’t throw punches tonight, we won’t get banned, and we won’t act like we’re college kids who just passed their first round of annual testing. How about that?”

Loudly, Yunho snorted. “Good luck with that, Jin. Look who you’re talking to.”

Jonghyun patted him on the shoulder. “Buckle up, kid.  You made friends with closet college boys. Prepare for the worst.”

Seokjin thought it absolutely couldn’t be as bad as it had been before.

He didn’t want to say he was wrong, hours later, watching Yunho participate in a drinking contest with a group of much younger men in the bar, while Jonghyun took bets on the side and was definitely skewing the numbers to his favor, but things weren’t looking good.

At least from an adult perspective. Seokjin had to admit, objectively, he was having a great time.

Their party of three had quickly collected the attention of others with their combined charisma and willingness to buy drinks, and before they’d been at the bar an hour, they’d nearly become friends with everyone there. No fights had broken out yet, and Seokjin as only halfway through the one beer he planned to have that night, but he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

It felt good to get away from the real world, if only for a night. It felt good to pretend he wasn’t some old stuffy adult, who had a career and responsibilities and a reputation to protect.

He let himself go in the moment, enjoyment bubbling up in him, and raised his fist to shout, “Come on, Yunho. You’ve got this!”

Jonghyun called to him, “Put your money where your mouth is and pony up some cash.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Seokjin reminded.

“There are no sides,” Jonghyun vowed, his breath reeking of sake. “Place a bet or move along.”

Yunho reeled on him, demanding, “You better bet for me, Jin. I know where you live.”

Laughing loudly, Seokjin pulled out his wallet, a chant to start the drinking match rising up in the bar, and handed some money to Jonghyun saying, “I don’t trust Yunho for a second. I’m better on the other guy.”

“Traitor!” Yunho vowed.

“You’re twice his age,” Seokjin teased back. “Which means your liver isn’t on your side.”

“Your money is mine,” Yunho replied. And then he was joining in the chant to drink.

Seokjin stopped looking at the clock then. He stopped checking the messages on his phone. He stopped worrying about Jungkook and Namjoon and his clinic, and anything that wasn’t in the bar at that moment.

All, at least, until it was well past two in the morning, most of their combined money had been spent, Yunho once more looked close to blacking out, and Seokjin had confiscated Jonghyun’s phone after he’d deliberately started drunk dialing people.

“You’re children,” Seokjin told them fondly as the three of them attempted to get back to the car in one piece.

“You are no fun,” Jonghyun slurred out. “You’re a wet blanket. You’re like … whatever’s wetter than a wet blanket, that’s what you are.”

Seokjin practically dumped him in the car face first, laughing at the sight of Jonghyun trying to get himself right-side up in the seat.

In the backseat, Yunho was sprawled out along the length of the car, practically dozing already.

Seokjin warned, “If either of you is going to get sick tonight, you will tell me right away so I can stop the car. Anyone who pukes in this car will be barred from it.”

Mockingly, Jonghyun said, “Wet blanket.”

“Yes,” Seokjin agreed. “Whatever’s wetter than a wet blanket. As long as that wet blanket has a clean car.”

He doubted Jonghyun would even remember that in the morning.

He took Jonghyun home first, leaving Yunho asleep in the car while he half carried Jonghyun to the front door.

“This is what you bring back to me?” Kibum asked, looking sleepy when he answered the gentle knock to the door. Seokjin had been trying his best not to wake Yebin if she was sleeping.

Seokjin passed a swaying Jonghyun off to his arms, and told Kibum, “I could have brought you something far worse and you know it. Be thankful.”

Kibum seemed to consider his words for a moment, and then nodded. “Alright, I will concede. Thank you, Jin.”

“Night, Kibum.”

When he got to Yunho’s parents house after that, he had to wake the man. He told him firmly, “I’d carry you if I could, Yunho, but you weigh too much. I’d never make it to the front door.”

“I’m up, I’m up,” Yunho swore, but he hardly looked aware of what his name was, let alone where he was.

“Sure you are,” Seokjin indulged. He turned the car off in the driveway and asked Yunho. “You okay?”

“Thirsty,” Yunho replied. “Oh, shit, Jin. My parents are going to kill me if I wake them up.”

Seokjin supposed coming home wasted in the early hours of the morning never stopped being embarrassing, even if you were an adult and just visiting your parents.

“Don’t worry,” Seokjin assured. “I’ll help you.”

He was just about to open the door and get out of the car when a motorcycle went flying past him. The driveway was long and wide, and Yunho’s parents had more of an estate than a simple house, so there was plenty of room for the motorcycle to fit and then go much further ahead to park closer to the front door.

But why was there a motorcycle stopping in front of Yunho’s door?

“Yunho,” Seokjin said worriedly in the pitch blackness of the car. They’d been sitting in the car for so long with the engine off now that everything had gone dark, and it probably looked like a parked car with no one in it.

What if they were witnessing an attempted break in?

“Yunho,” Seokjin said worriedly again.

“What?” Yunho griped out, rubbing at his head like an alcohol induced headache was already settling in.

Seokjin squinted hard at the front area of the house. There was a light on illuminating the area, and when Seokjin looked again he could clearly see a second person climbing off the back of the bike, pulling at the helmet they wore to get it off.

“Oh, no,” Seokjin breathed out, frozen in his seat.

It might have been impossible to determine who it was who initially, but now Seokjin’s eyes were adjusted to the darkness he was sitting in, and the light on the front porch was absolutely revealing at least one of the people who’d ridden up on the bike.

There was no mistaking it. That was absolutely Samuel.

And now the smell was making sense. The fragrance Samuel wore. It was the same one that seemed like it had seeped into Jimin’s second helmet.

Because yes, Seokjin absolutely recognized that bike, and even if he hadn’t, the driver was removing his helmet next, and there was no way that wasn’t Jimin.

The shock was starting to wear off then, and now the only thing on Seokjin’s mind was how Jimin and Samuel were connected. How did they even know each other? There was nothing connecting them.

At least there was nothing that Seokjin knew about. But there was certainly something. Because irrefutably, Seokjin was seeing the both of them standing next to each other, on friendly and familiar terms … on …

Seokjin gripped the wheel tightly as he watched Jimin lean in confidently, hook his hand around the back of the taller form of Samuel, and pull him down for a full kiss.

Seokjin fumbled his seatbelt off at lightning speed, popped open the door to the car, and almost fell directly onto the ground below him. He scrambled to get his feet under him, and by the time he was up confidently, Samuel and Jimin had sprung apart. Seokjin, with his heart thundering hard in his chest with apprehension and shock, quickly covered the distance between himself and the pair.

“Jin? What the hell?” Jimin asked, sounding as confused as Seokjin felt.

Samuel looked between the two of them in a horrified way.

“What’s going on here?” Seokjin asked, feeling like someone’s parent. He felt like he’d just caught his own son in the act.

Samuel continued to stare at Seokjin with an open mouth, and Jimin looked caught somewhere between embarrassed and defensive.

“Well?” Seokjin prompted.

“I can explain,” Samuel said quickly.

Jimin said angrily, “We don’t need to explain anything.”

“Yes,” Seokjin told him quickly, “you do. You need to explain why I just caught you kissing Yunho’s sixteen-year-old cousin.”

Jimin put a hand out to steady himself on his bike, his knees bowing out a little. “Sixteen?”

Samuel winced as he said, “Shit.”

Now Jimin sounded furious as he snapped towards Samuel and demanded, “You’re sixteen? You said you were eighteen!”

“Shit,” Samuel breathed out again.

Yeah, Seokjin thought that pretty much summed everything up. From the horrified look that was spreading across Jimin’s face, to the guilty one already etched onto Samuel’s.

Shit, indeed.


	30. Chapter Thirty

Before Seokjin could even start to get a handle on the situation, Jimin spun in a furious way on Samuel and demanded, “Why did you tell me you were eighteen? You said you were eighteen!”

Flush with embarrassment, Samuel said weakly, “You just assumed I was older. You assumed!”

Seokjin looked between the two of them, as if he was observing a tennis match.

Jimin replied, “I asked you from the start. I asked, what are you doing in Seoul.”

“And I,” Samuel said, lobbying a volley of words back but looking like he might burst into tears at any second, “told you I was taking a break from school. You’re the one who started talking about having a friend in college. You assumed I meant college, when I said school.”

Samuel didn’t look particularly old. If anything, he almost had a baby face. He could look even younger than he actually was, in the right light. But he was also tall, and moved in a confident way, and held himself as if he was an adult. Teenager temper tantrums aside, he could pass himself off as older just by the way he behaved most of the time, if he wanted to.

“You didn’t say anything!” Jimin was raw with hurt now. “You never said you were just in high school, and that I was wrong for assuming you were older. And when I asked if you were old enough to drive, because there was this nagging feeling in my gut that you weren’t being honest about something, you said yes. I knew you looked young, but you said yes.”

In a strangled way, Samuel got out, “In America! You only have to be sixteen to drive in America.”

Both Jimin and Samuel went deathly quiet, and Seokjin suddenly felt like he was intruding on something.

And finally, Jimin said, “You lied to me. You lied to me about something important. Something that there is no excuse for.”

Samuel hugged his arms around himself, despite the warm temperature of the night, and said in a quiet voice, “I lied because I liked you, and because you treated me like an equal—like someone worth talking to. And you kissed me like you meant it. I couldn’t tell you the truth, not when I realized that you thought I was older.”

Jimin scoffed, “Because you knew you’d be gone soon enough and I could just be a lie you kept to yourself?”

Samuel shook his head. “No. Because I knew you’d look at me like you are now. Like you’ve been kissing a child.”

Jimin bent over and knelt down to hug his knees. He made a frustrated, angry sound and practically spit out, “Because I have been!”

Sounding a lot stronger now, Samuel told him, “I’m not a child!”

“You’re sixteen!” Jimin demanded, “Do you understand the position you’ve put me in? Do you have the barest hint of the severity of this?”

The situation was off the rails, like a runaway train, and Seokjin couldn’t let this go on. Not in the wee hours of the morning, with any number of people that could potentially be woken up. Not to mentions reputations that could be ruined from such a conversation.

“Enough,” Seokjin said quietly, but firmly. He cut between the two of them and turned to Samuel first to say, “Your cousin is practically passed out drunk in the back of my car. He needs you to take him inside, get him a glass of water, and try to avoid waking his parents up.

Samuel was ignoring Seokjin. And it would have irritated Seokjin, if only it weren’t for the begging look on Samuel’s face as he looked to Jimin. It was the look of a desperate man.

“I didn’t lie to hurt you,” Samuel told Jimin. “I’m sorry.”

Jimin stood slowly from his crouched position and said, “You’re sorry you go caught. Not that you lied.”

“Jimin,” Seokjin tried.

Suddenly, Samuel said, “You’re right.” Seokjin looked back to him with a surprised expression. Samuel continued on, “I’m sorry I got caught, and but I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. I just … I just wanted to have you, and to do that, I had to lie to you and be what you expected. What you wanted. What I wanted. But you know what? I’d do it again.”

Jimin made a disgusted sound.

“Because,” Samuel said, cutting through any noises being made, “I got to have something real with you. I got to feel something. And if I hadn’t, you never would have offered me a ride home that day we met, and you never would have kissed me, and I never would have had so many good days with someone who, I guess as stupid as this sounds, helped me like myself again. You did that, you know. You made me like myself again, and I didn’t know that was possible until it happened.”

Sharply, Seokjin said, “Go, Samuel. Go get your cousin.”

Samuel’s eyes were locked on Jimin, clearly waiting for some kind of response to what he’d said.

But Jimin? His face was blank, and he had no words.

“I am sorry I hurt you, truly,” Samuel finished, practically a stutter in his voice, then he was going off towards the car. Both Seokjin and Jimin stood back as Samuel got Yunho in the house and the door closed behind them.

Seokjin heard Jimin hiss a vulgar word the moment the door was closed, and then he was reaching for his helmet.

“Jimin,” Seokjin said, pulling the helmet from his hands and holding it protectively.

“Seriously?” Jimin demanded, trying to swipe the helmet back and failing. “Is this the part of my humiliation where you lay it on thick about what a pedophile I am?”

Shocked, Seokjin demanded, “How can you think I’d say something like that?”

“Because I’ve been making out with a child!” Jimin’s voice peaked, and he caught himself a second after that. “Because I’ve been taking advantage of a child.”

Seokjin put Jimin’s helmet down on top of the bike’s seat, and pulled him towards the car. “Get in,” he said, nudging Jimin to the passenger side door. “We need to talk about this.”

Jimin grumbled as he got in, but he went.

“Firstly,” Seokjin wasted absolutely no time saying, almost before the doors were shut, “I do not think you’re a pedophile. Even if Samuel hadn’t confessed to hiding his age from you, I wouldn’t think you were. Because I know you, Jimin.”

“People always think they know the people in their lives.”

Seokjin pinched Jimin hard in the arm.

“OW! What’s wrong with you?”

“That’s what I do to Jungkook when he says stupid things,” Seokjin said as a warning. “And considering I’ve practically adopted you as my brother now, I’ll do the same to you. You did not take advantage of Samuel. You are not a pedophile—and you shouldn’t be throwing a word like that around to begin with. I think you got duped, and you’re human, and I’m not going to leave you alone until you admit that none of this is your fault.”

Jimin slumped in the seat Jonghyun had been sitting in an hour previous. “It feels like my fault.” Jimin scratched his fingers through his hair. “I knew he was lying to me about something, Jin. You don’t go through what I have, and not figure out when people are lying to you. But I thought he was just a private person, and I liked him. I really… fuck.”

Seokjin felt so bad for him. He felt his heart ache for Jimin.

In a defeated sounding way, Jimin said quietly, “This is the kind of luck I have, you know? I fall in love with someone already in love with someone else. Yep, that’s me. And then the second, the very second I let myself be interested in someone else, it turns out he’s sixteen.” Jimin looked incredulously to him. “Do you get how stupid I feel right now? Six months ago, I felt like I was never going to get over you. I thought I’d be that loser stuck on some guy he could never have forever. Instead I’m just some loser who picked wrong again.”

Jimin thumped his head back against the headrest in the car several times in a row, each time more violently.

“I know this is bad,” Seokjin tried.

“You think this is bad?” Jimin exploded. “Were you the one with your tongue down a kid’s throat?”

Seokjin winced.

“Sixteen,” Jimin breathed out. “He’s sixteen.” Jimin asked quickly, “What’s the age of consent in America?”

Of that, Seokjin wasn’t absolutely certain, but he guessed, “I think seventeen? Maybe eighteen? It might depend on which State?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jimin said, clenching his eyes shut. “It doesn’t matter at all.”

Curiosity was biting at Seokjin in a way he couldn’t avoid, and he felt like he was strong armed into asking, “How did the two of you even meet?” It seemed so impossible that two people like Jimin and Samuel had ever even had the opportunity to be in the same place at the same time. They were so completely opposite in nearly every way, and the curiosity was eating Seokjin up in side.

In a serious way, Jimin said, “It’s your fault, actually.”

“My fault?” Seokjin balked. How? He felt a stab of fear.

It was gone a second later when Jimin burst out laughing, and it was good to see a smile on his face.

Jimin waved his hand dismissively, stating, “Your clinic’s little festival thing. Your educational thing. That event you held at the clinic for the neighborhood.”

Seokjin was still astounded. “There? You two met there?”

“Yep,” Jimin said. “I was there, more for crowd control than anything else, and there he was, looking as bored out of his mind as I felt. I don’t know, we just started talking.” Jimin, sounding like he was giving something up to admit it, said, “I don’t do that easily. Talk to people. Make small talk. But it was easy with him. That’s why I liked him from the start.”

These were the moments that most reminded Seokjin that underneath Jimin’s hard shell was a much softer boy.

“I saw you,” Seokjin said suddenly.

“What?”

The day was coming crashing back into Seokjin’s mind, memories whipping around. Yoongi’s injury had blocked out a lot of anything else that had happened on the day, but now, with Jimin’s admission, Seokjin was remembering the other things.

“It was after Yoongi was recovering,” Seokjin said, thinking back to how he’d stood at the window in the clinic’s recovery ward and looked out onto the street below where the clinic’s event had been happening. “I saw you outside, and I could also see that you were talking with someone. You looked … familiar with them. Or at least comfortable. I couldn’t tell who it was at the time, but obviously I know now.”

Jimin made a soft grunt of acknowledgement.

Seokjin was almost irritated at himself that he hadn’t been able to put the pieces together on his own. He’d stopped thinking about that day at the clinic almost completely, as time passed, but he had his conformation now.

“That day,” Seokjin said, “Yunho was talking about his cousin. About Samuel. He said he’d disappeared into the crowd and couldn’t find him. I guess he ended up talking to you.”

Wryly, Jimin told him, “He said he’d come along to support a family member, but that he’d rather be out seeing the city. He said he was from America. I liked how he was blunt. I liked how he wasn’t you.”

There was a tick of nervousness in Jimin’s voice when he spoke, and even more of it was written across his face when he looked to Jin.

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin couldn’t help saying in response. “I’m sorry this all worked out for you like this.”

Looking away from Seokjin, Jimin confessed, “I felt guilty at first, that I was having feelings for someone nothing like you. But then it felt freeing. It felt right.”

“And he turned out to be sixteen,” Seokjin sighed out. “Of course.”

Jimin echoed, “Of course.”

Seokjin sunk back into his own seat. Samuel was the boy that Jungkook had suspected Jimin was seeing. Samuel was the reason Jimin was grooming himself more intensely, and going out late at night on dates with, and seemed a little happier. And all of that was going to be ripped away, Seokjin feared, because of how the situation was working out.

“I knew he was lying about something,” Jimin huffed out. “I’m telling you, I could feel it in my gut. But he also seemed so upfront about everything. He said had a cousin who was a friend of yours. He said he wasn’t going to be in Korea for very long. He, as far as I can tell, didn’t lie about anything except for his age.”

But none of the other stuff mattered, Seokjin didn’t have to tell Jimin. The only thing that did matter, was that Jimin was well into his twenties, and Samuel was barely sixteen.

“What are you going to do?” Seokjin asked.

“What am I going to do?” Jimin glared at him. “What do you think I’m going to do? I’m never going to talk to him again, I’m going to pray no one who knows about this says anything to anyone—yes I’m looking at you, and then I’m going to pretend this never happened.”

Jimin gave him a once over.

“What?”

“You’re not going to tell anyone, right?”

“No,” Seokjin vowed right away. Jimin was thoroughly embarrassed by what had happened, and Seokjin had a good feeling that Samuel had been very invested in their budding relationship, considering the heartbroken look on his face when his age had been outed. Seokjin wasn’t going to hurt either of them further by mentioning what he’d seen to anyone.

“Not even Rap Mon?” Jimin pressed. “Or Samuel’s cousin?”

Seokjin said right away, “Definitely not Yunho. I want you to live.”

“Ha,” Jimin said dryly. “I think I can take some old doctor.”

“You say that now,” Seokjin decided, “but you of all people should know what someone is capable of when they feel like a loved one has been threatened or abused in some say. Yunho isn’t a fighter, it’s true. But Samuel is his younger cousin, and he’s sixteen, and Yunho may not be thinking clearly if he ever finds out. He won’t stop to ask if you knew about Samuel’s age, if it comes to it.”

Jimin grit his teeth. “Let’s avoid that, okay?”

“Okay,” Seokjin agreed. “And Jimin?”

Jimin was reaching for the latch to the door when Seokjin held him back with a touch to his arm.

“Want to hug?” Jimin asked insipidly.

Seokjin disregarded his tone and said, “Don’t let this sour you, okay? This didn’t work out and it sucks. I know you let yourself get your hopes up, and it went bad. But there are a lot of people out in this world, and at least one will be a good fit for you. You can’t stop looking for someone who makes you happy, just because of a bad experience.”

Jimin pushed open the door. “I’ve had my share, Jin. I think I’m done.”

“Jimin,” Seokjin said. “Don’t—”

“I took a chance,” Jimin broke in. “I took a chance even when I knew better, and this is what happened. I’m not doing it again.”

Seokjin tried to say again, “Just because—”

“I really liked him,” Jimin said in a severe, raw way. “I liked that he was blunt and said what was on his mind, and he wasn’t meek or overly concerned with what other people thought. He was spontaneous and fun and charismatic and … goddamn.”

Before Seokjin could formulate any kind of response, Jimin was out of the car and stalking towards his bike. He got on it in a fluid way, fitting his helmet over his head, and then took off into the night.

Seokjin sat there in the car for a couple more minutes, still completely stunned.

It was some time before he could bring himself to drive home, and even then, after taking a long, hot shower, and having a cup of tea, he couldn’t get himself to settle down. He was still lying in bed, his mind running away from him with speculation, when Namjoon came home.

Seokjin listened to Namjoon putter around the apartment for a little bit, and he could hear when Namjoon made a call with a hushed voice. Seokjin was staring up at the ceiling in the dark when Namjoon took a shower, and then snuck his way into the bedroom, and tried to be as still as he could as he slid into bed.

Seokjin rolled towards him and said quietly, “I’m not asleep.”

Moving a little more naturally, Namjoon said, “You shouldn’t be.”

Namjoon fluffed his pillow of a second, then laid down completely, tucking in next to Seokjin.

He asked, “Did everything go okay tonight?”

Seokjin’s feet nudged Namjoon’s under the sheet, and he asked back, “Didn’t your people tell you how tonight went?”

Seokjin had seen them in the bar, of course. Just a couple of them, towards the back, and not standing out in any way. But Seokjin could pick Namjoon’s men out anywhere, now. He wasn’t certain if that was a good thing, or bad. And there’d been even more of them outside the bar, too.

In the darkness of the bedroom, Namjoon’s fingers threaded through Seokjin’s hair, and curved down the slope of his face to his chin. It was a sensual touch, but without any heat, and Seokjin relished in the love he felt from Namjoon’s fingers.

“You know I know how you feel about all of that,” Namjoon said softly, holding Seokjin’s chin in his fingers so he could land a kiss properly without being able to see. “The boys are there in case anyone gets any very stupid ideas and wants to take a swing at you.”

“Mm-hm,” Seokjin hummed out.

“But,” Namjoon continued, “you know they’re not there to babysit you. They don’t report back to me what you’re doing. I’m not keeping tabs on you any more than I have to.”

Seokjin tested, “So you don’t know tonight how I got into a drinking contest with some other people in the bar?”

“Nice try,” Namjoon said, a smile in the tone of his words. “But first of all, you’re way too sober for that. You’re also too responsible for that. I don’t doubt that there probably was some kind of drinking contest tonight. I can tell you took a shower but I can still kind of smell the alcohol on you. But it’s more likely Jonghyun was the one doing that sort of thing.”

Seokjin grinned and relayed, “It was Yunho.”

Namjoon chuckled. “Kind of unexpected, but I can see it.”

Seokjin scratched his fingers gently over Namjoon’s skin, and said, “I had a good time tonight.” No matter what had happened when they were done, between Jimin and Samuel, Seokjin had still had a good time with his friends. It was nice to get out, once in a while, and to let himself just have fun.

Control was something Seokjin liked very much. Having control of a situation made him feel comfortable and beat back the anxiety that had been in him since he was a teenager. But letting go of that control, in a safe situation, felt even better than holding onto it.

“Then why are you lying awake in bed?” Namjoon asked. “I know you have an afternoon shift at the clinic tomorrow, but you’re not usually up this late unless you’re worried about something—or thinking about something you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried,” Seokjin pressed. He was saddened by the glimpse of happiness Jimin had seen, only to have it snatched away from him, but he wasn’t worried. Jimin had done the right thing immediately, and he’d reinforced it to Seokjin right after. And Samuel was young. He’d no doubt find himself interested in someone else quickly enough.

Namjoon pressed, “Then why are you still awake?”

Seokjin let his hand slide more confidently across Namjoon’s bare hip, and answered, “Maybe I just wanted to wait up for you. Maybe I sleep better when I know you’re next to me.”

“I always sleep better when you’re here,” Namjoon replied.

Seokjin gave a yawn and burrowed a little further under the blankets. Summer was raging outside, with temperatures sweltering even though the sun had long since gone down. But Seokjin indulged in running the air conditioner overnight, and maybe liked it the best because it meant he could sleep with blankets even in the summer.

“Did everything go okay tonight? With Bangtan?”

Namjoon said in a frustrated way, “It’s definitely still a needle in a haystack situation, but at least I’m out there in a visible way. Infinite can see me prowling around, maybe even sniffing too close for comfort. If I can make them uncomfortable in any way, I’ll consider the day well spent.”

“Just … don’t stop being careful.” Seokjin gripped a little tighter to Namjoon. “You’re one of the most capable people I’ve ever known, but your head on a stick would be absolute victory for Infinite, so don’t ever forget that. You’re not replaceable. And if you make me drag you back from the afterlife in any way, at any time, it won’t be heaven you go to when the time actually does come. Do you understand?”

“I love you, Jin,” Namjoon said with a laugh, guessing in the dark where his mouth was, and practically landing a kiss on his nose.

“I mean it,” Seokjin warned. “Be careful.”

“I will,” Namjoon promised, settling down like he was seconds away from falling asleep. “I’d never do something like that to you. I’d never put you through that. I promise. Nothing is going to happen to me.”

The thing was, Seokjin didn’t think Namjoon was overly confident, or made promises he broke easily. But Infinite were a threat that wouldn’t be denied, and it would only take one wrong move for Seokjin to end up losing Namjoon.

“Goodnight,” Namjoon murmured sleepily.

Seokjin pressed himself wholly against Namjoon and couldn’t even begin to contemplate what a life without the man would be like.

In the morning Seokjin got up and drove to Yunho’s place. Yunho’s mother opened the door and greeted him like he was her son, and insisted he come in for small talk while Yunho attempted to make himself look like an actual human being. Seokjin kept an eye out for Samuel the entire time he was there, but either the teenager was still sleeping, or hiding in his room, or wasn’t home at all.

Forty minutes after he’d arrived, Seokjin got Yunho into the car, and to a café down the street.

“You look ridiculous,” Seokjin pointed out, eying Yunho who was huddled into a jacket at the table they’d selected in the café next to the window, with huge sunglasses over his eyes, and a black coffee in front of him.

“You are a monster,” Yunho returned. “I feel like I’m dying. If I’m dying, just let me die in peace. Who are you to come to my house so early in the morning, and pull me out of bed, and make me come out in public?”

Seokjin enjoyed his own drink with a grin, and pointed out, “It’s almost eleven, you’re an adult and you should act like it, and furthermore, you’re a doctor so you knew last night when you were downing sake like it was water, that this was coming your way in the morning.”

Viciously, Yunho said, “We are not friends.”

“That’s what you said last night,” Seokjin said cheerily. “Do you remember any of last night? You were very angry I was betting against you when you insisted on starting a drinking contest.”

Yunho cupped his coffee and contemplated, “I remember some stuff last night.” He asked, “Why aren’t you dragging Jonghyun out here? Why torture just me?”

“Jonghyun’s in surgery right now,” Seokjin said. “He’s actually being an adult. You’re the one sleeping until ten at your parent’s house.”

Yunho paused for a second, then reiterated, “Not friends.”

Seokjin’s grin got wider.

He took pity on Yunho for a little bit, letting the man sit in peace and drink his coffee, before finally speaking up, “I dragged you out here this morning firstly because I wanted to make sure you were okay. The last I saw of you, you were being manhandled into your parent’s house, and you probably had no clue that was where you were. But also, I wanted to talk to you about something important.”

In a joking way, Yunho said, “That’s practically the story of your life, Jin.”

Seokjin sighed.

“About what?” Yunho allowed a moment later.

“About who,” Seokjin corrected. “About Samuel.”

Yunho sat up a little straighter, and took off his sunglasses. “What about my cousin?” Yunho’s eyes were bloodshot, but he was attentive. “What about Samuel?”

Regardless of what Seokjin had seen transpire between Jimin and Samuel, Seokjin was absolutely confident that Samuel had meant everything he’d said to him about wanting to stay. Seokjin had seen the look on his face for what it was.

“I was talking with him,” Seokjin said, wasting no time, “and he was telling me about how he was upset that his time in Korea was ending.”

Yunho gave a nod. “I’m taking him to the airport Friday night.” He frowned quickly. “He doesn’t want to go home?”

“No,” Seokjin said honestly. “And I believe him when he says that.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Yunho said right away. “He hated coming here. His parents practically had to force him. And he’s done nothing but complain about stuff while he’s been here. Though naturally my mom thinks he’s some angel.”

“Yunho,” Seokjin told him, “Samuel’s been a great addition to the clinic. I told you that before, and I haven’t changed my mind. He’s a hard worker, he shows up on time, he does what he’s told, and he’s well liked. Sure, he’s a little mouthy, but that’s typically what teenagers are, and we like him.”

Yunho ticked off, “Back in California he has this gigantic house he lives in near the beach, he has his own car, he goes to this posh high school, he has a credit card, he’s got a ton of friends, and it just doesn’t make sense that he’d want to stay here over that.”

Leaning up on the table a little, Seokjin posed, “What if coming here gave him a taste of things that are more important than material items?”

“You really think my cousin, in the span of three and a half weeks, learned the value of love and friendship?” There was a mocking tone in Yunho’s voice, but not an insulting one, just something akin to disbelief.

Seokjin laughed a little. “I think he got a taste over here of what it is to work hard, and earn respect, and feel accomplished. I think for the first time in his life he was challenged to do better and be better, and he likes the way it feels when he achieves the things he didn’t know he could.”

Yunho just shook his head in disbelief.

“He likes it here,” Seokjin repeated. “And he wants to stay. But I can tell he’s afraid to hurt his mother’s feelings, or impose himself on your family, and that’s why I’m speaking for him. He doesn’t know I’m here. I didn’t want to get his hopes up before I talked to you about this.”

“But Jin,” Yunho said seriously, “I’m not staying in Korea. I’m gone a week from today.”

“No,” Seokjin agreed. “But you could talk to your parents, and see if they’d be okay with Samuel staying for the school year.”

Looking baffled, Yunho pointed out, “Korean schools are nothing like American schools, Jin. Look, I’m not saying American kids are stupid or anything. I’ve spent enough time traveling in America to know some American schools are absolutely cutthroat. But overall? Samuel would struggle in a Korean school. He wouldn’t be able to keep up with the demands he’s not going to be familiar with, and that’s not even taking into account that his grades are …”

“Not good?” Seokjin asked.

“Painfully average,” Yunho supplied. “I’ve seen his semester end review.  He’s not failing any classes—barely in some cases, but he’s not putting in any effort and it shows. I don’t think he could even test into a regular Korean school, let alone a quality high school.”

Seokjin truly wondered about Samuel’s poor grades. Because Seokjin had spent more than enough time around Samuel to pick up on the fact that he was intelligent, and quick witted, and thought resourcefully.  Samuel seemed the kind of kid who could be at the top of his class if he wanted to. But by all accounts, Samuel was like Jungkook, and simply had little to no motivation at school.

The difference seemed to be, Jungkook let Seokjin push him to good grades and accolades, while Samuel lacked that driving force.

Seokjin tapped his fingers on the table thoughtfully for a second, then said, “What about an international school?”

Yunho perked at that. “His mother does hold a Korean passport, even if she married an American, so he’d qualify right away. And his parents definitely have the money to pay for that kind of fancy school. But his grades … Jin. His grades are a problem. Something has to distinguish him enough to get him in, and he isn’t going to do that academically.”

“No,” Seokjin agreed, feeling a spark of hope, “but you’re the one who told me he practically lives the arts. You said he’s in dance, and takes vocal lessons, and is very artistic. You said at school he participates in all the plays and musicals, and that’s really the only thing he cares about.”

Yunho seemed to be thinking too, as he mused, “Maybe that would work … maybe.”

Seokjin thought quickly about the international schools in the area. There were quite a lot of them in Seoul’s boundaries, which meant options.

“Just look into it?” Seokjin posed. “I promise you, he wants to stay here in Seoul more than anything.” At least Seokjin hoped he still did. He wasn’t sure where Samuel’s mind was after what had happened with Jimin. But he was wagering a lot that Samuel’s desire to stay in Seoul was greater than his drama with Jimin. “And he’s proven that this could be that thing that you’ve all been looking for to turn him around. I think he needs this Yunho.”

Yunho still didn’t look completely convinced but said, “I’ll call Auntie and talk to her, okay? I can’t say I think she’ll be thrilled with the idea, but I might be able to convince her. I’m telling you, the bigger issue with really be getting Samuel into a school.”

“I think his extracurriculars speak for themselves,” Seokjin said.

Yunho burst out laughing. “They totally would, Jin, if this was Europe, or North America, where the arts are things that are nurtured in children. But you know as well as I do, that it’s not like that here in Korea. Even the most … artsy international school is going to want to know what his test scores are like, before they even bring themselves to care about his latest school production of Hamlet.”

That wasn’t a statement Seokjin could argue with. So he settled for saying, “Samuel has five days left in Korea before he’s scheduled to leave. If you spend just one of those days shopping Samuel around, at least you can say that you tried to make your cousin happy then.”

With a sigh, Yunho admitted, “He has seemed really happy here lately. More than when I visited him in California.”

Seokjin couldn’t help adding, “Even if it turns out that he doesn’t want to stay in Korea for an extended amount of time after the school year, this’ll give him some worldly perspective. And it might settle some of the teenager down in him.”

Once more, Yunho promised, “I’ll look into it this week, before he’s set to leave. You have my word.”

Seokjin felt like he could breathe a little easier after that.

“Jin?”

“What is it?” Seokjin truly hoped he wasn’t shooting himself in the foot by going out on a limb for Samuel. He’d be absolutely mortified if Yunho did all kinds of work on the subject, only for Samuel to back out at the last second.

With some uncertainty left on Yunho’s face, he asked, “You really and truly think staying in Korea would be best for Samuel?”

That was a far easier question than Seokjin had been expected.

“Let me put it like this,” Seokjin said, “Jonghyun and I were talking about Samuel a couple of days ago. And together we decided that if he had been staying in Korea, we would have offered him an internship at the clinic. A paid internship.”

Yunho looked impressed. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Seokjin assured. “He does good work, and he’s reliable. The staff like him, the patients like him, and he’s a good fit for the clinic. I think I know my clinic well enough to know when someone is a good fit.”

Yunho gave a hearty laugh. “I agree. You’ve always had a sixth sense for people.”

Seokjin admitted, “If you can get Samuel into an international school, he’ll have to get a new visa, and quickly. Especially since I’m serious about wanting him to intern at the clinic officially. I can’t pay him if he isn’t on the books legally.”

“One step at a time,” Yunho said, and then he set to work finishing his coffee.

Seokjin took Yunho home after that. No matter how much he wanted to hang out with his friend, he knew Yunho was pressed to finish all of his business in Korea before he had to leave in a week, and Seokjin wanted to get to the clinic on time to start his shift.

But when he pulled into the parking lot half a block from the clinic, and ready to start a day of work, he felt accomplished.

Even if it didn’t end up working out for Samuel, for whatever reason, Seokjin felt like he’d done the best he could. He felt like he’d done his part, and now the rest was up to nearly everyone else.

The clinic, calmingly enough, was running smoothly when Seokjin got there. He stopped to chat with a couple of familiar faces in the waiting room, and then went to find Jonghyun.

“How’d your surgery go this morning?” Seokjin asked curiously. He hadn’t heard from Jonghyun that day, and so already he was assured that things had gone fine. But he liked to ask to be sure. Jonghyun was a highly skilled and tremendously talented doctor, but complications could get the best of any doctor at any moment.

Jonghyun gave him a full smile. “Flawlessly. Just the way I like them to go. The patient is upstairs, recovering, but should be released in a couple of hours. How was Yunho this morning?” Seokjin had snapped a photo of Yunho nursing a cup of coffee like it was a baby, and though he hadn’t heard back from Jonghyun who’d been in surgery at the time, he was certain he’d had a good laugh over it.

“A mess,” Seokjin teased. “But he drank a lot last night. I think we should be surprised he was even on his feet this morning.”

Jonghyun pointed out, “He said he was drinking for the both of us last night. He did that to himself.”

“He doesn’t even remember everything that happened last night,” Seokjin replied. “Which is why it’s a good thing you were the one in surgery this morning, and not him.”

“Fair enough,” Jonghyun said. Then he added, “I had Moonbin in there with me today for surgery. I’m telling you right now, Jin, we’re keeping that kid. I don’t care what hospital comes knocking for him eventually, we’ve gotta fight tooth and nail to keep him.”

“We’ll do our best,” Seokjin vowed.

“I mean it,” Jonghyun pressed. “We’re keeping that kid.”

Seokjin pointed out, “Everyone younger than you is a kid, apparently.”

With a one shoulder shrug, Jonghyun said, “I don’t call you kid.”

“No,” Seokjin protested. “I distinctly remember that you’ve called me that before. Might have been a long time ago, but I remember.”

“Lies!” Jonghyun shouted after him as he turned to leave.

Seokjin called over his shoulder, “Good work on the surgery.”

With a bit of a pep in his step, something that he hoped would stick with him through the day, Seokjin headed to his office to get his work day started.


	31. Chapter Thirty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick head's up before we dive right into the next chapter!
> 
> In the past few months, but especially this most previous week, I've gotten a lot of requests from people who want to chat with me about the story, or about other things, and have asked for a way to do that. AO3 doesn't offer a messaging service of any kind, and I absolutely don't want to force anyone to publicly leave content in a comment that they don't want to share with others.
> 
> Thus, a twitter was born. And none of you should be surprised by how cheesy it is. Just tell me to stop. I will.
> 
> https://twitter.com/DrJinsClinic
> 
> Please feel free to message me on twitter, privately if you want! I'm more than happy to talk about any of the facets of the story, if that's your desire, but I'm also open to any personal talks that people want to have. I always mean it when I say you can lay your head on my shoulder if you want. I mean, come on, guys. I'm a social worker in RL. Where'd you think all the angst comes from? But seriously, if you so please, give the twitter a follow so you can see when updates are made, or special announcements, or anything pertaining to the story. And shoot me a message if you want to. The option is simply there if anyone is interested!

Before Namjoon stopped heaving, Seokjin had already made his diagnosis. He’d known practically since the moment he’d woken up to Namjoon’s side of the bed cold, and the distant hum of the fan in the bathroom carrying to him.

All the same, Seokjin took Namjoon’s temperature, gave him a thorough once over, and then when he’d gotten the man settled back into bed, asked, “You know what I’m going to stay, right?”

Namjoon looked at him with bloodshot eyes. “Nothing I’m going to like.” He was almost listless against the firm mattress that was beneath him, and Seokjin couldn’t help kneeling down next to him.

“If you want to come down to the clinic, I can run some further tests on you. But I can almost promise you right now, you have food poisoning.”

Namjoon groaned as he closed his eyes. “No way. No.”

“Yes way,” Seokjin parroted back. “You’re vomiting up everything you ate in the last twenty-four hours, you’re extremely dehydrated, but you don’t have a fever or the chills, or anything that might make me think this is a virus of any kind. Namjoon, I’m very certain you have food poisoning.”

What Seokjin did not say was that the night previous he’d warned Namjoon not to eat the spinach and chicken salad that he’d probably had sitting in his car, in the heat, for hours.  He’d told him that contrary to what most people thought, fruits and vegetables were most likely to be the culprit of foodborne illness, and Namjoon was playing with fire.

But Namjoon had insisted he’d known exactly where the food came from, who’d prepared it, and then he’d added, “Jeeze, Jin, give me a little breathing room here. You’re always on me about not eating healthy, and then the second I try to, you complain about that.”

Seokjin could have risen to the bait. He could have. But he’d held his tongue, and let Namjoon eat the salad, and now he was absolutely sick and Seokjin would have bet anything in the world, it was because of the salad.

“I can’t be sick,” Namjoon wailed out, twisting a little on the bed.

Seokjin put his hand on Namjoon’s forehead. He’d taken Namjoon’s temperature twice already, and he was very, very confident the readings were correct when they told him there was no fever. But Seokjin found himself using his hand anyway. Partly because Namjoon meant so much to him, and partly because he’d done several months of his residency with a senior doctor who honed Seokjin’s senses, more than his ability to look at a digital number.

 “No fever,” Seokjin said again, not bothered by the sweat that had collected on Namjoon’s face from his recent heaving into the toilet. Seokjin gave a sigh, preparing for a fight, and said, “You need to stay home today, and drink liquids, and rest. Most cases of mild to even moderate food poisoning are twenty-four to forty-eight-hour periods. So you’ll have to be home today, but you might feel better enough to go out starting tomorrow.”

Disagreement lit across Namjoon’s face, and he said right away, “I can’t stay home. I need to be out there. I have important things I—”

He cut off looking nauseous again.

Seokjin reached over and pulled a wastebasket a little closer. It was tiring for Namjoon to have to sprint to the bathroom every time he felt his stomach churn, so Seokjin had placed the smaller bin next to the bed just in case.

Kindly, Seokjin said, “This isn’t something you can fight through. You can’t just take a couple of painkillers and power through it Your body is in the process of expelling something in it that’s making you sick. It’s a violent thing. It’s an energy consuming thing. And you need to rest while this is happening.”

Namjoon’s hand reached out for Seokjin, and Seokjin caught it.

“I promise,” Seokjin started.

“You don’t understand,” Namjoon broke in, pale and shaking a little, his lips bloodless and his eyes tinted red.  “This is the worst possible time in the world for something like this to happen.”

Tensely, Seokjin asked, “What’s going on, Namjoon?”

Namjoon swallowed visibly, his throat shuddering at the action, like there was something physically there to get down.

“Is something happening?” Seokjin tried again.

Namjoon squeezed his hand hard, then revealed, “Last night four of our guys were killed. They were deep in our territory, in a spot that would have been safe enough for you to walk through alone, and they were vets. They weren’t new kids. They weren’t members who hadn’t seen how rough this life can be. They were there on the day we took on Infinite. They shouldn’t have been overpowered.”

Seokjin sat back hard on his legs. “Four people are dead?” That was a horrific thing to consider, but something on Namjoon’s said there was even more occurring.

“Jin,” Namjoon said, barely without hesitation, “it was a message, sent directly to Bangtan, and it means flat out war with Infinite is starting. For real.”

Shaking his head a little, Seokjin said, “It’s a terrible thing that those men were killed, Namjoon. I’m so sorry for you. I know you personally oversee everyone who is admitted into Bangtan, and you know them by name. You know a lot about some of the members. But how do you know Infinite is responsible?”

Abandoning Seokjin’s hand, Namjoon brought both his hands up to his face and ran them over his features. He made a pained sound and Seokjin held back on the urge to climb in bed with Namjoon and offer comfort.

“I know it was Infinite,” Namjoon managed to grit out, “because each member of Bangtan who was killed, had a name carved into the skin of their forehead.”

Suddenly it was Seokjin who felt sick. “What?”

Namjoon ticked off, “One for Sungyeol, one for Woohyun, one for Sungjong, and you’d absolutely better believe, one for Sunggyu.”

There was a horrific picture in Seokjin’s mind now, of names carved into flesh, on the faces of men that Seokjin knew. For the most part, he tried to keep a respectable amount of distance between himself and Bangtan’s members. But ultimately, he spent such a large amount of time around them that he got to know some of them. He knew a lot of them.

He wanted to ask which were dead.

“That’s definitely a message,” Seokjin breathed out.

“More than that it’s a promise,” Namjoon said, then he was lunging for the trash can and dry heaving into it.

Seokjin rubbed Namjoon’s back as he choked and gasped for air. “It’s okay,” he said softly, rubbing evenly. “You’re okay.”

Namjoon pulled back from the wastebasket and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. His voice was raw as he said, “I can’t afford to waste even a minute laying here in this bed. Not while my people are being attacked, all for the sake of a message that I already got loud and clear.”

Helping Namjoon lay back down, Seokjin said again, “You’re not leaving this bed. I promise you that. While your body is purging, your balance is going to be thrown off, and your ability to focus and your reactionary time will be reduced. If you go outside you may not even be able to stand up without tipping over, and that says nothing about how little you’ll be able to defend yourself if someone comes at you.”

In his bag that was near the front door, Seokjin could hear his alarm chime ringing. He’d set it when he realized that Namjoon was sick, worried that he’d focus too much on the man, and not on his shift that was due to start at the clinic very soon. But now the alarm was going off, and Seokjin needed to leave soon.

“Think about your safety,” Seokjin urged, forcing himself to stand. “Infinite is attacking Bangtan directly now, and you are number one on their hit list. And you can’t just live in anonymity anymore. They know who you are. They probably know where you live. And they know the places you like to visit, where you typically eat, and likely everything associated with me. So you can’t put yourself in a vulnerable situation.

“Jin,” Namjoon groaned out, though it sounded more like a whine.

Firmly, Seokjin said, “I like Yoongi a lot. I think he’s very good at what he does. But you are the glue that holds Bangtan together. Bangtan will fall apart without you, and then more than four people will lose their lives.”

Namjoon pulled the pillow from behind his head and smashed it over his face.

Seokjin considered the fight already won.

In a way that had him feeling more like a doctor, and less like a boyfriend, Seokjin leaned over and pulled the pillow away from Namjoon. He directed Namjoon’s line of sight to the table next to the bed and said, “I’ve left you a couple of water bottles here, and something loaded with electrolytes. Drink as much as you can. There are also some crackers here, and pretzels. I know the last thing you want to be doing is putting food into you, but your body needs fuel after what it’s going through, so do the best you can.”

Namjoon wrestled his pillow back from Seokjin, but his grip was weak, and Seokjin let him have it without a fuss.

“I wish I could be here to take care of you,” Seokjin said, kneeling on the bed and leaning down to kiss Namjoon’s forehead. “I love you, and I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”

Namjoon’s fingers caught the edge of Seokjin’s shirt, and he offered, “It’s not too late to get into bed with me. Come on, get in. You can’t catch what I have.”

“I have to go to work.” Seokjin smoothed back Namjoon’s sweaty hair. “I’m taking a couple days off this week, remember? Jungkook’s school even is on Thursday, and we’re going to see our family’s graves on Friday. I can’t duck out of today, or else you know I’d stay home with you.”

Namjoon let go of Seokjin’s shirt and flopped back. “Kill me now.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Seokjin said seriously, thinking again of what Namjoon had just said.

Despite the incident with Hoya that had devolved into a car chase rather quickly, Infinite had been pretty passive over the past few months. Seokjin still argued that there was absolutely no proof that the man who’d attacked him in his apartment had been sent by Infinite. Which meant that the most Infinite had been doing lately was running around, gathering resources, and ghosting Bangtan.

But this? Attacking Bangtan and murdering them? Carving names into them? Violating them in such a way?

It was utterly personal and loud in terms of intent. It was, like Namjoon said, a declaration of war.

“Sorry,” Namjoon mumbled.

Seokjin couldn’t help kissing him once more, this time properly on the mouth. He promised, “I’ll give Yoongi a call for you, okay? I’ll tell him that you’re not feeling well, but hopefully you’ll be back up on your feet by tomorrow. He can handle Suho, right?”

Namjoon gave a pause in which he froze almost completely, then he was demanding at Seokjin, “No, get me up. If I leave Suho to Suga in any way, we’ll be at war with Exo too, this time tomorrow.”

Seokjin helped tuck Namjoon in more securely, and asked, “Is there a problem between the two of them?”

“No,” Namjoon admitted. “Other than the fact that Suga hates the way Suho operates.”

Baffled, Seokjin asked, “He doesn’t like that Suho is nice?”

“He doesn’t like that Suho is hardly ever direct,” Namjoon supplied. “Talking to Suho is like figuring out a puzzle sometimes, or a riddle. He’s not straightforward. He’ll never lie to your face, he’s like that, but he won’t tell you the truth, either. He walks that line, and he’s open about it, and Suga hates it. I think Suho knows it, too, so he’ll be exceptionally vague with him just to antagonize him.”

Seokjin couldn’t help the small but genuine smile that snuck its way onto his face as he said, “I bet Suho’s like that, and I also bet it drives Yoongi crazy more that Suho’s antagonizing him on purpose, than the actual antagonizing happening. You know people don’t call Yoongi’s bluffs very often. He can be scary when he wants to be, which is most of the time. People don’t challenge him often. Suho’s actually probably good for Yoongi in that way. He’ll soften him up a little.”

Namjoon gave a wry laugh. “Suga’s still breathing because he is the way he is. And I know I told you this before, but I’ll say it a million times until you get it. Suho is our ally, but we don’t trust him. He will ultimately only be out for himself in the end. Do not be swayed by the way he smiles at you, or the kindness he shows you. He could be our enemy tomorrow, for all we know, and he won’t hesitate to kill you when he is.”

Seokjin’s alarm sounded another warning from the hallway again.

“I have to go,” Seokjin said, forcing himself to take a step back from the bed. He repeated, “I’ll call Yoongi and get him to cover you for today … to do whatever you planned to do. You promise me that you’re going to rest in bed, and drink water, and try and feel better.”

“Doctor’s orders?”

Seokjin nearly burst out, “You’re so adorable sometimes.”

Namjoon beamed, looking like there was a touch of color coming back to his face. “I know.”

“I know you know,” Seokjin laughed. “That’s when you stop being adorable.”

It was honestly a rough thing to do, leaving Namjoon in their bedroom, sick and in need of attention. But part of being an adult was juggling priorities, and Namjoon certainly wasn’t dying. He didn’t need Seokjin to wait on him hand and foot, not matter how glad Seokjin would have been to do it.

“I’m always adorable,” Namjoon called after him. “Always!”

Seokjin forced himself out in to the hallway, and then picked up his bag and opened the front door.

The men loitering around outside—Namjoon’s men, mostly looked surprised to see him leaving the house without Namjoon on his trail. When they were both home and could manage it, they liked to leave together. And clearly the men had expected Namjoon to be with them.

“Hey,” Seokjin called out, flagging the two nearest to his side. He wasn’t surprised that the two further out, didn’t leave their spots, and instead kept watching the road for the extremely unlikely possibility that Infinite was going to come barreling down the street. “Rap Mon is staying in today.” At the shocked faces looking back at him, he continued, “Just keep an eye out for him trying to escape, okay? Doctors’ orders, he needs to stay in. If he tries to leave, one of you should give me a call.”

The man on the left, a younger kid but one who held an impressively high rank in Bangtan, leveled at him, “You want us to report our boss’s movements to you?”

Seokjin shrugged fearlessly. “Only if he leaves the house.”

The other man looked just as cautious as he posed, “Why would we do that? No offense, Doctor Kim, we like you, and you’re always nice to us, but you’re not the boss.”

“I am today,” Seokjin said, palming his keys. “Rap Mon is on bed rest. And if you think I’m being unreasonable, contact Suga. I’m sure he’ll tell you that I’m right, and absolutely the boss of your boss for the next twenty-four hours.” He sized up the men in front of him before saying a little softer, “I don’t think he’ll try to leave. He isn’t feeling well at all. I’m more concerned with someone trying to get into the apartment.”’

Both men stiffened, almost in an insulted way. “We’d rather die than let anyone take a shot at the boss.”

Seokjin tried not to clench too tightly at the keys he was holding. Men had died trying to stop someone from getting into the apartment before. That night Seokjin had been attacked in his home, Bangtan members had died not less than fifteen feet from the door.

“Just be careful,” Seokjin said kindly. “Rap Mon needs to rest today. But just because you’re not the boss, doesn’t mean you aren’t important. Watch after each other, too. Be careful.”

“You sound like my big brother,” the young man laughed.

Hefting his bag a little higher, Seokjin said, “Do this favor for me, okay? No one goes in who isn’t supposed to. And if you do this for me, I’ll cook you something good.”

“You don’t have to bribe us into doing our jobs,” the younger said again.

The other added, “But we will totally accept donations of your food that Jimin says is practically legendary. And Jungkook? I swear his eyes roll back into his head when he’s just talking about it.”

“I’ll cook you something good,” Seokjin promised with a chuckle, and headed down to his car.

He called Yoongi before he got to the clinic, but the phone call was short and mostly uneventful aside from Yoongi asking, “Is he actually sick? Or just playing hooky?”

“Actually sick,” Seokjin replied, sitting in traffic. “It’s definitely food poisoning. And yes, he tried to get out of bed this morning and go to work, but I’m not having it. He needs to rest, and drink lots of fluids, and recover his strength. He’s out of commission for today.”

Yoongi made a humming sound and said, “He hardly ever gets sick.”

Seokjin was in agreement, but asked instead, “Can you handle things today? Even with the … the recent thing that just happened?”

“He told you about that?”

“He did.” Seokjin wondered if Namjoon had wanted to at all, but instead felt like he had to. A terrible thought crashed through him, and he asked, “Is Jungkook safe? Yoongi, I need to know that Jungkook is safe.”

Yoongi scoffed. “Your brother is never completely safe, and you know that. He knew what he signed up for, and you know it too. But I know what you’re trying to say, and I should remind you that he’s partnered up with Jimin most of the time. I’d like to see the remains of any asshole who tries to get to Jungkook, and has to go through Jimin first.”

Seokjin wanted to feel better after hearing that, he truly did. But Jimin was not an immovable object, and Jungkook was certainly a bigger target than most just by way of his relation to Seokjin.

“Someone,” Seokjin said quietly, “is carving the names of dead members of Infinite into your men. I’m not comforted by the idea of it happening to Jimin before it happens to Jungkook.”

Yoongi was quiet on the line for a few seconds, before he seemingly confessed, “Don’t tell your brother what I’m about to tell you, okay?”

“Okay,” Seokjin said slowly.

He heard Yoongi huff, and then he said, “I’ve got some of the boys watching Jungkook like the way they watch you. Jungkook hasn’t caught on yet, mostly because he’s not looking for that sort of thing, but some of Bangtan are trailing him just in case there’s trouble. Everyone in Infinite, and we can’t say how much of that gang Myungsoo has been able to retain, knows that Jungkook is your brother, and they know you played a heavy role in helping to bring down Sunggyu. So yes, I have Jungkook being watched, and he’ll throw a massive fit if he knows.”

Seokjin could practically hear the shouting in his mind. Jungkook would hate the idea of being coddled, or overprotected, and he’d see it as a slight. He’d claim that he was a member of Bangtan, not a civilian, and he didn’t need that sort of special treatment.

But Seokjin begged to differ.

“I won’t tell him,” Seokjin said. “And thanks.”

The conversation was long, long over by the time Seokjin got to the clinic and parked the car. He set the alarm on the car and started towards the clinic for the start of his shift, trying not to think about Namjoon laying at home by himself, feeling ill. He truly wished he was working a shorter shift that day, or had the ability to take the day off. But he’d blocked out two days already that week for Jungkook and family related activities, and it wouldn’t be fair to put pressure on the other employees to cover for him just because he wanted to stay home with a sick boyfriend of his.

He supposed he’d have to settle for behaving like every other real adult in the world, by putting his work first, and badgering Namjoon to death over text message instead of anything in person.

He was actually doing just that in his office, twenty minutes before he was set to take his first appointment of the day, when a soft, barely noticeable knock to his open door startled him into almost dropping his phone.

Of all the people Seokjin had expected to see standing there, Samuel was not one of them.

Since the breakfast coffee he’d gotten with Yunho, Seokjin hadn’t let himself think about Samuel, or especially the situation between Samuel and Jimin. But by the look on Samuel’s face that was definitely what was coming next, and Seokjin wasn’t sure how to brace for it.

“Doctor Kim?” Samuel asked in a small voice that matched his knock.

Seokjin put his phone down right away and gestured for Samuel to take a seat in front of him. “Come on in.”

 Samuel grimaced and said, “I was just checking if …well, if I still had a job here.”

Seokjin startled even more now, than he had a second earlier. “Excuse me?”

There was so much nervousness lit across Samuel’s face that it practically looked like he was going to burst into tears at any second. And he looked willowy now, overly thin and frail, like he had never looked before. His confidence was gone, all the bravado was missing, and he seemed so …just so heartbroken.

Nothing that had happened between Jimin and Samuel had been his fault, but suddenly Seokjin felt like a villain.

“Come sit down,” Seokjin said again, more firmly now. “Of course you still have a job here, if you want it until you leave.” He certainly wasn’t going to say anything about Samuel potentially being able to stay until he heard back from Yunho.

“I wasn’t sure,” Samuel said, sinking into one of the chairs in front of Seokjin’s desk.

Baffled, Seokjin asked, “Why would you think that? You’re a valued employee here. You are a good employee, and we’ve never had any complaints about you for any reason. As long as you want to be here, you’re wanted in return.”

Hardly looking convinced, Samuel replied, “Because Jimin is your friend. And why wouldn’t you be loyal to your friend over some kid you barely know?"

It was shocking how easily Samuel could go from someone with all the confidence in the world, to something resembling a kicked puppy. And it only served to remind Seokjin of just how young he really was. He hadn’t grown into himself yet. His confidence was largely in part just a show that he put on. And he was still learning to take on the world as an adult, and not a child.

“Because,” Seokjin stressed out, “those two don’t have anything to do with each other.” Seokjin leaned his elbows up on his desk. “Do I wish that things had played out differently between two people I know and like? Yes, that would have been nice. But Jimin being my friend doesn’t make me take anything out on you. Your business is your business. Clinic business is clinic business. And this clinic does not mix with your personal business. That’s how we operate here.”

Some kind of relief flooded through Samuel’s body visibly.

Seokjin said again, “You have a place here, Samuel. I meant it when it told you that before, and nothing has changed. Thank you for showing up to work today, even though you weren’t sure.”

In a way that echoed the Samuel Seokjin knew, the teen offered, “I didn’t want to sit at home all day long with my Auntie and listen to her complain about leeks not being in season. Plus, I’m kind of terrified that Yunho is somehow going to find out what happened, and corner me about it.”

Smiling a little, Seokjin assured, “No one wants your cousin to find out what happened. I don’t think I’m strong enough to pull him off Jimin if he does.”

Samuel slumped a little in his chair and said quietly, “I don’t want anything like that to happen.”

Setting aside his phone completely to focus wholly on Samuel in front of him, Seokjin asked, “Why’d you do it? Why lie? Just so Jimin would pay attention to you?”

“Shit, I don’t know,” Samuel said abruptly.

His words cut the tension in the room by at least half and when Samuel laughed a little nervously, Seokjin couldn’t help doing so himself.

“You know it was a mistake, right?” Seokjin pressed. “You lied to someone who trusted you. And without violating Jimin’s privacy in any way, I want you to know that Jimin isn’t the kind of guy who trusts easily. You hurt him.”

The door to the office was open, but Samuel didn’t seem to care as he confessed, “I didn’t go after him from the start or anything with some grand plan to make him my boyfriend. Doctor Kim, I’m serious, there was nothing romantic about it in the beginning. I just liked that he was willing to talk to me—I didn’t know anyone that day we met. I wanted him to be my friend because he was blunt and honest, and I realized suddenly that none of my other friends back in California were. I’m not saying they’re jerks or anything, but none of them say what they mean, or mean what they say. Jimin was different.”

“He’s definitely blunt,” Seokjin agreed.

“I just wanted to hang out with him,” Samuel kept going. “And I really was afraid he’d think I was just some stupid kid if I told him how young I was. What would a guy like him want to be friends with a kid for? He wouldn’t. And I still think he would have been polite to me if he knew from the start, but we wouldn’t have built much of a friendship.”

“Polite?” Seokjin asked, amused.

Samuel shrugged. “He was always nice to me. Blunt, but polite.”

Knowingly, Seokjin said, “But you let your relationship with him go from just a friendship, to something romantic. Samuel, we both know you’re not a child physiologically. But you’re an American citizen, and the laws of your country say you are legally. So if this had happened there, you could have put Jimin in a very, very dangerous and illegal position. He could still be in more than a little hot water if someone here wanted to make this an issue—like one very overprotective and no nonsense cousin of yours.”

Samuel’s head fell, his chin going to his chest. “I really am sorry.  I just … for the first time in my life I had something that felt real. I had someone who accepted me for just the way I was, and called me out when I needed it, and valued my opinion, and made me feel … like I was worth the time and energy.”

“And you will have that again,” Seokjin urged. “When you’re a little older, and a lot more ready, you’ll meet someone who makes you feel exactly what you need to feel.”

“It doesn’t feel that way,” Samuel confessed.

Seokjin gave him a supportive look. “Of course it doesn’t. You’re sixteen. You think you can see your whole future in front of you, but the truth is you can’t see around the corner. That’s not an insult, either, it’s just what life is like when you’re sixteen. You’re stuck between being a child, and being an adult, and you’re certainly not done developing.”

Samuel cut in to say, “Careful, Doctor Kim, you’re starting to sound a lot like the psychologist my parents made me go to last year.”

Flatly, Seokjin said, “I hope that’s what any good psychologist would tell you. And it’s the truth. You’re not done growing, your brain isn’t fully developed, and that is reflecting in the personal choices you make. But soon enough you will be an adult, and you’ll have defined cognitive reasoning skills, and you’ll be able to look at someone and likely determine if they’re a good fit for you or not—regardless of what you might be feeling. It’ll be up to you to do what you will with that, but at least you’ll have the skills to determine it. Right now? I’m sure you just jumped right into a relationship with Jimin without thinking about how it would turn out.”

Samuel seemed to be grinding his teeth before he said, “I thought I could just be happy for once. I knew I was only going to be here for a short while, so I thought I could be happy, and have someone like Jimin, and then when I had to go back to California, at least I’d have important memories.”

Seokjin started to speak up.

“—and I know I was wrong,” Samuel said, sounding honest. “I know I screwed up big time. I just … got so far into the lie, and how it made me feel, that nothing else started to matter. And that makes me an asshole, I really get it. I hurt the one person I was trying to have something with, and that makes me an asshole.”

Seokjin didn’t try and counter that statement.

“But mostly,” Samuel said, surprising Seokjin, “I just miss Jimin being my friend.”

“Really?”

Samuel nodded. “The kissing was … holy shit the kissing was good.”

Seokjin urged, “Maybe don’t talk about how you, a sixteen-year-old, enjoyed kissing a much older person?”

“But,” Samuel continued on, seemingly more certain in what he was saying, “him being my friend was even better. I knew I could trust him with what I told him, and he always listened when I wanted to talk. We went all over Seoul, and he showed me the best places to eat, and the really awesome sights to see, and when I was with him, I never felt alone. Sometimes, honestly, I feel alone even when I’m standing right next to someone.”

“Samuel,” Seokjin said gently, “this may surprise you to hear, but other people feel that way sometimes, too. Loneliness is a complicated thing at times.”

Samuel grimaced a little. “More than ruining a relationship that felt real—and honestly, I don’t care what you just said about me needing to grow up before I can determine what’s good for me or not, I ruined the best friendship I ever had in my life. I was better friends with someone I knew for three weeks, than people I’ve known for years. And I fucked it up.”

Samuel was candid in what he was saying now, looking utterly distressed, and Seokjin felt nothing but sympathy for him. Despite the mistakes Samuel had made, and hurt he’d caused not only himself but also Jimin, Seokjin felt sorry for him.

Seokjin asked, “Have you talked to Jimin since that night?”

Samuel shook his head right away. “I kind of figured if he wanted to talk, he’d call me. Otherwise, he probably wants nothing to do with me ever again.”

Seokjin wasn’t so sure about that. After all, Jimin had essentially confessed the same to Seokjin as Samuel just had. Jimin had valued their friendship just as much as Samuel, it seemed.

“You should call him,” Seokjin decided.

Samuel looked like Seokjin had suggested he plot world domination. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” Seokjin said with a grin. “I think you’re really underestimating Jimin’s feelings.”

“Hardly,” Samuel snorted out. “I’m absolutely not underestimating how much he hates my guts right now.”

“Did you hear him say that?”

Samuel paused, then shook his head slowly.

“He’s gotten a couple days to cool off now,” Seokjin said. “You absolutely hurt him, but you didn’t break him. And I’ve known Jimin long enough to know that he’s very reactionary short term, and after a cooling off period, he’s much more reasonable. So I’m suggesting that you give him a call and see if he wants to talk. Apologize again, but honest with him, and maybe you’ll get lucky. What’s the worst he could do?”

“Run me down with his motorcycle?”

Seokjin didn’t believe that for a second, mostly because he’d been there, and he’d born witness to the tender way Jimin had kissed Samuel. Whether Samuel knew it or not, or even whether Jimin knew it or not, Jimin’s feelings for Samuel were very real.

And when Jimin cared for someone, those feelings were incredibly strong.

Once more, Seokjin urged, “Call him. The worst he can do is hang up and never talk to you again. But that’s what you’re getting right now. If you have to leave at the end of the week, don’t you want to settle things between the two of you?”

Samuel definitely now looked won over.

“Now get back to work,” Seokjin ordered. “The floors aren’t going to mop themselves. And you should know, this Friday you need to block out your lunch hour to spend with us. It doesn’t happen often that someone who works here leaves the clinic, but we’ve got a routine here for when it does. You should expect cake, and for us to make a big deal of it.”

Samuel blushed in a clearly pleased way. “You don’t have to.”

“Of course we don’t,” Seokjin agreed. “But we want to, and we like you, so block your lunch off on that day.”

Samuel rose from his seat and said earnestly, “Thank you, Doctor Kim.” He hurried out of the office then, and Seokjin hoped he’d done some good.

The rest of the day at the clinic was absolutely normal, in a good way, and though he’d passed the hours texting Namjoon and being assured that he was drinking water and getting plenty of rest, Seokjin was itching to get home to him by the end of his shift.

“I have never,” Irene said with a laugh as she was preparing to walk out at the same time as Seokjin, “seen you so glued to your phone before.”

“Some days,” Seokjin replied, “it’s hard to be an adult and actually prioritize your life.”

“That’s every day,” she said in a cheeky way. “And you’re lying if you say otherwise.”

Seokjin did his regular walkthrough of the hospital, taking note of a couple things that would need to be dealt with the following day, before he was out for a couple of days, and then he went to his car.

He’d only take a couple of steps away from the locked clinic doors when a familiar voice called his name, and he looked over to see Taehyung jogging the distance to him.

“I’m going home now,” Seokjin said knowingly, gesturing to the direction of his car. “You can watch me walk out there if you want, but I’m not going to be stopping anywhere on the way home.”

“Actually,” Taehyung said, falling into step with him, “I was wondering if I could get a ride with you.”

“A ride?” Taehyung fell into step with him as Seokjin walked. “How’d you get here?”

Taehyung explained, “I had some business to take care of the neighborhood today, so I had Hobi drop me off earlier today. Jimin was supposed to pick me up about an hour ago, but he bailed on me. I left my bus pass at home, and I spent all my money on lunch today. I mean, I could walk home, but I figured you might be working late, so I decided to come here instead.”

Taehyung was all around good company, so Seokjin nodded easily and said, “Of course I’ll give you a ride home. But you and Hoseok should really start thinking about getting your own car.”

Taehyung didn’t seem bothered by the suggestion, and said, “I’ve told Hobi that, but he hates to spend money if he thinks it’s unnecessary, or if he’s saving for something big.”

They were halfway to the car when Seokjin asked, “And does he think a car is unnecessary?”

Taehyung shook his head, which left the other alternative.

Unlocking the doors to the car, Seokjin asked curiously, “What are you two saving for that’s big?”

It was a pretty reliable notion that Taehyung was terrible at keeping secrets. Taehyung was boisterous and loud and exuberant. He really seemed to adore people, whether it was talking to them, or just being around them. But mostly, he really was just a horrible secret keeper. Taehyung had confessed once that knowing a secret was like feeling as if he was stuffed full of helium, waiting to burst at any second.

So to think that both Hoseok and Taehyung were keeping a big secret? It fascinated Seokjin.

He did hurry to say, however, warry that he was sounding as if he was putting pressure on Taehyung in any way, “You really don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. A secret is a secret.”

Taehyung, putting his seatbelt on, gnawed on his bottom lip before saying, “I know you’ll keep this to yourself if I tell you. So I will.”

“Taehyung,” Seokjin said, trying to say again that the secret could remain just that.

But by then Taehyung was saying, “We want to move, eventually.”

“Move?” Seokjin’s eyebrows rose. He was surprised, really, because Taehyung and Hoseok had a quaint little apartment not too far from where Seokjin and Namjoon lived. It was an older building, but it had obviously been treated with care, and their apartment felt very homey. It seemed to fit the two of them well, and neither had given any indication that they wanted to move in the past, or that they were dissatisfied with the place.

Taehyung waited until Seokjin had the car on the road and was driving, before confessing, “We’re thinking about the future, you know? Going to Jeju for our anniversary …it helped us figure some important stuff out. It helped us get our priorities in order.”

Seokjin had to say, “This is the most serious I’ve heard you sound in a long time.”

“We talked about serious stuff,” Taehyung said with a shrug to his shoulders. “Our future, stuff. And what we want.”

“And you came to the conclusion that you want to move?”

“If we want a family, yeah.”

Seokjin’s foot slipped off the gas and he sputtered a little, caught completely off guard.

Taehyung seemed to sense his panic right away, and rushed to say, “Not right now, obviously! Jeeze, Jin, think about it. Do Hobi and I look like we’re ready to be parents right now?”

“No,” Seokjin said honestly, and with a laugh. “Not even a little.”

“And you’re right.” Taehyung gave him a wink. “But Hobi’s the one for me. I know it. And I want to marry him some day. When things settle down, I want to get a little boring with him and have a family. Maybe in life five or six years?”

It was a little sobering to think that Seokjin was starting to get to the age where that was a thing with both himself and his friends. With some bit of skewed perception he often saw himself as a young, twenty year old guy whose priorities that were mainly learning and retaining as much knowledge as possible. But then these sorts of things came along, reminding him that he was getting older, and his friends were getting older, and it wouldn’t be long before they had families and the kinds of responsibilities that came with being older.

Jonghyun was already a dad, technically.

Taehyung pressed on,” Hobi and I figure if we’re gonna have a family in five or six years, we need a place to have that family, and it can’t be some cramped apartment.”

It shouldn’t have surprised him, Seokjin thought in hindsight, that Taehyung and Hoseok were contemplating their future. They were getting to that age where paternal urges were kicking in, and their relationship was both serious and stable enough to consider what a future together would look like. Just because Taehyung was a bundle of energy sometimes, didn’t mean he couldn’t be mature and responsible.

“Taehyung,” Seokjin asked, “why are you keeping this a secret?”

“We just want to,” Taehyung said a little defensively, then he was quiet, before adding, “in Jeju … it was the first time we’d talked about our future seriously. It was the first time we were honest about what we wanted.”

Taehyung was saying so much by saying so little, and Seokjin understood. He understood the urge to protect such an important decision, even from people who’d offer nothing but support. He understood Taehyung and Hoseok wanting the matter to be personal for a while.

“Then you should,” Seokjin said honestly and confidently. “I’ll keep your secret, okay? But please know that I’ll support you in any way I can. No matter when you need or want that support, you’ll have it.”

In a loud way that sounded more like the Taehyung Seokjin was familiar with, he said, “That’s because you’re a really good person.”

Fighting back a smile, Seokjin asked, “So you and Hoseok are saving for a proper home?”

Taehyung nodded happily. “We’re cutting corners where we can, and saving every penny. Hopefully we’ll have enough to get a good place later on. We don’t want to have a family until we can take care of that family properly.”

Seokjin didn’t think there was any way in the world that Taehyung was going to have a child he couldn’t feed. Taehyung wasn’t going to let what happened to him as a child, happen to his own.

“I think you’ll do well saving,” Seokjin praised. “And when the time comes, you’ll find a place that’s perfect for you. I’m not worried. And when you’re ready to share the decision you and Hoseok have made, you know it won’t be just me supporting you.”

Taehyung gave him a hopeful look and said, “We’ve got our fingers crossed, you know, that one day there won’t be all this fighting. I guess it’s maybe a little stupid to think, especially with this Infinite stuff going on, but I think there could be peace someday. And that’s when I want to have a family.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid at all,” Seokjin said, heading towards Taehyung’s apartment. “In fact, if you want to hear a secret of my own, I feel exactly the same way you do. When things calm down, when it’s safe, and when there’s peace, I want to have children, too.”

With a big grin now, Taehyung said with a laugh, “Imagine our kids playing together, Jin. That would be something.”

“Something menacing,” Seokjin said with his own laugh. “God help Seoul when that happens.”

“The world,” Taehyung corrected. “Definitely the whole world.”

Seokjin dropped him off at his apartment less than twenty minutes later, and got back to his own just after that.

The apartment was quiet when he entered, and the lights were mostly off. There was a glow coming from down the hallway, from the bathroom, but when Seokjin went to investigate, it looked like Namjoon had simply forgotten to turn the light off the last time he’d been in there.

Seokjin pushed the button to turn the light off, and headed to the bedroom.

There was nothing but the feeling of content in him when he spied Namjoon sleeping on their bed, hogging the middle and all of the blankets, but breathing deeply and evenly.

Seokjin shed most of his clothing in a silent way, and then climbed on the bed as gently as he could. Namjoon didn’t budge so much as an inch as Seokjin settled in, molding against the comforting form of the person he loved.

“I hope you’re feeling better,” Seokjin whispered in the darkness, pressing a kiss to Namjoon’s bare shoulder. “I love you.”

Namjoon did move then, but only a little as he rolled more firmly into Seokjin, who bore his additional weight easily. Then Namjoon’s leg raised, hooked over one of Seokjin’s in a way that would have been intentional if he’d been awake.

Fondly, Seokjin accused, “You octopus.”

But he was glad to have the steady and sure weight of Namjoon against him.

“I’ve got you,” Seokjin promised, pulling Namjoon closer, and for a while longer, he simply let himself enjoy the feeling that was having Namjoon against him.


	32. Chapter Thirty-Two

With time starting to run short, Seokjin gave a rough tug to the tie he had just put on, and felt it slither away from the collar of his shirt and down to the ground. He kept a tight grip on it so it didn’t hit the floor, but just barely.

Frustrated and uncertain, he glanced back to the mirror in the bedroom, and saw his reflection looking back at him. And for the most part everything looked fine. His back slacks were pressed, and for the occasion that night he’d settled for a navy-blue button-up shirt that looked very conservative.

But the tie in his hand … the tie …

“Woah,” Namjoon said, cutting by the doorway to their room as he passed to the living room, “you look super hot.”

It obviously was a compliment and not meant to sound condescending, but with Seokjin’s frustration, it felt that way.

Namjoon gave a whistle that was so Namjoon. “Super hot.” But then in a perceptive way Namjoon seemed to take in the look on his face, and he asked more seriously, “What’s wrong?”

Feeling like a child, Seokjin held up the tie and said, “Yes or no?”

Stepping more fully into the room, Namjoon approached him, asking, “You’re freaking out in here over a tie?”

“I’m not freaking out,” Seokjin snapped out. Then, because of his severe tone, he apologized, “I’m sorry. Maybe I am a little. I can’t decide if I should wear a tie or not. I don’t want to come off too stiff and formal. This isn’t that kind of affair. But then what if I go more casual and I’m the only one who decided to do that? I’m not going to embarrass myself or Jungkook.”

Namjoon pressed himself along Seokjin’s back and wrapped his arms around his waist. He put his chin on Seokjin’s shoulder, and said, “You shouldn’t freak out about this, Jin. It really isn’t that big of a deal, and I promise you, hardly anyone is going to care what you look like.”

Seokjin gave a huff of disbelief.

“You’re right,” Namjoon corrected. “They’re all going to care, because you are the most attractive person I’ve ever seen in my life. If someone told me the sun comes from you, I’d believe them.”

“Stop,” Seokjin protested right away with a laugh. “You’re so cheesy I can’t take it.”

Namjoon pressed a smile into Seokjin’s shoulder. “I tell people all the time an angel that’s come down from heaven personally for me.”

“I can’t take it,” Seokjin continued, squirming in Namjoon’s hold. But Namjoon kept his grip tight, even as his simile grew.

“I bet,” Namjoon said in a coy way, “when you walk into a room sometimes music plays.”

“You’re terrible.” Seokjin turned in Namjoon’s arms, put his own behind Namjoon’s neck, and kissed him. “How can you say those things with a straight face?”

“I can’t,” Namjoon said, chuckling. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I feel that way about you. You are an angel to me. You do shine like the sun to me. And yeah, sometimes I start humming music when I see you, because you make me so happy. Deal with it.”

Namjoon really knew how to kill the tension in a room, and Seokjin was thankful for it.

He tightened his hold on Namjoon and hugged him closer, before saying, “I really need tonight to go well.”

“And it will,” Namjoon assured right away. “But Jin honestly, you have to stop worrying about something as trivial as what you’re going to wear. Jungkook is going to be glad you’re there, not care what you’re wearing.”

That was easy for Namjoon to say, but Seokjin didn’t think he really understood the social aspect of college.

“I’m a reflection on Jungkook tonight,” Seokjin said. “All of his friends and professors will add to their opinions of him, based on what they see of me tonight. And that is a big deal.”

Namjoon’s hand wandered down to Seokjin’s butt and gave it a lascivious squeeze. Then Namjoon’s lips were hot and needy at the curve of Seokjin’s jaw as he said, “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Ever. You know people get floored by your beauty, and that’s before they even start talking to you. You’re funny and smart and you’re charismatic.  People at the University are going to get all that tonight.”

Seokjin really, really hoped so. Tonight was Jungkook’s semester review, which meant family and friends were invited to see what the students had been working on in their classes. And in particular, in the music department, there were exhibitions by the students, and Seokjin knew Jungkook had something to show for his effort.

Tonight had to go well because Seokjin was terrified for what it meant for Jungkook’s future if it didn’t. Jungkook said he was fine being in school now, with his limited class load and more often than not being able to take the classes he wanted. Their father’s stipulations were there in order for Jungkook’s education to be paid for, but Jungkook exercised a lot of control over what he took and how much he did.

But Jungkook had never liked school. He’d never taken to it well, finding it either too hard or too boring, or even too easy at times. The idea that Jungkook was in college now, even if it was just a couple of classes a semester, was more than Seokjin had dared to hope for.

College certainly wasn’t an end all be all, but it was a kind of security that Seokjin wanted for his brother. Whether Namjoon believed it or not, Seokjin thought the business with Bangtan and Exo and all the other gangs, would eventually end. The police were, inevitably, going to take control of the streets back. And where would that leave Jungkook? Jungkook seemed almost defined by his place in Bangtan these days, and Seokjin didn’t want that to be his only identity.

If Jungkook had an education to fall back on, even a selective one, when Bangtan ended, he’d certainly have more options.

“—I could go tonight.”

Namjoon was swaying them slightly on their feet when Seokjin rocketed away from this thoughts.

“Sorry?”

“Daydreaming?” Namjoon asked. “Or still fretting?” He kissed the side of Seokjin’s neck. “I said I feel guilty I have to take care of business right now. I wish I could go tonight. If only to beat off the hoards of admirers that you’re about to gain.”

“Hardly,” Seokjin said right away.

Namjoon countered, “You’re completely oblivious to it most of the time, but I gotta fight hoards of would-be suitors off all the time when we go out, and that’s before people listen to you talk and figure out you’ve got the brains to back up how you look. I actually feel like I’m going to have a stroke tonight thinking about you at the University. They’re gonna find out you’re a doctor, too, and then I might lose you forever.”

Namjoon was being deliberately dramatic, but even so, Seokjin felt compelled to kiss Namjoon properly, in response.

“Then you should come tonight,” Seokjin said, even though he knew it was an impossibility.

Namjoon’s chin rested more firmly on Seokjin’s shoulder. “I really wish I could. I’m sorry. I told you I would, and I let you down.”

Seokjin was quick to correct, “No, you said you’d try, and I know you did, so let’s get that clear. And it’s not like Jungkook will be heartbroken you can’t be there tonight, either. He understands the nature of your job. He knows that Bangtan has to be a priority for you. And if you have a chance tonight to catch anyone in Infinite, then you have to take it.”

He’d already seen the conflicting emotions and thoughts playing out across Namjoon’s face when he’d told Seokjin that a reliable tip had come in about a potential Infinite meet up that night. Namjoon had certainly promised to try to be there for Jungkook’s school event, more as Seokjin’s boyfriend than any other capacity, but sometimes things weren’t meant to work out.

“I just want to support him,” Namjoon confessed. “As his future brother-in-law.”

Seokjin pinched Namjoon gently. “Getting ahead of yourself a little, don’t you think?” Seokjin laughed.

“Not really,” Namjoon returned seriously. “I’ve been thinking about marrying you from the moment I saw you, and now that we’ve been together for a while, and been through a lot of shit, I want people to start understanding how serious I am about you. I know you know, but it’s important Jungkook knows. Unless you tell me off right now, or at some point in the future, I’m going to marry you. Jungkook will be my brother-in-law, and it’ll be nice to have family again I can support.”

Namjoon was most certainly thinking about his grandparents then. Seokjin could see the look in his eyes. It was something Seokjin knew that Namjoon didn’t have a lot of memories about his parents. They’d died when he was a very young child, but Namjoon’s grandparents had been everything to him.

Namjoon often said Bangtan was family, but deep down inside, Seokjin knew that Namjoon thought there was a difference between family that was made, and family you were born into.

“You support Jungkook all the time,” Seokjin said pointedly.  “He will understand about tonight. And there are going to be a million other things in his life that you can support him with, even if one of those things is not tonight.”

Looking crestfallen, Namjoon said, “I want to be there tonight. I really do. I get why Jungkook going to college is so important to you. And anything important to you, is important to me.”

“But a chance to get Infinite?” Seokjin posed.

“I have to take it,” Namjoon said knowingly.

Seokjin kissed Namjoon properly then, partly because he had said all the right things, as he tended to do as of late, but also because Namjoon was simply a good person, and Seokjin was wholly in love with him.

“Okay, okay,” Seokjin said, tearing himself away from Namjoon what felt like minutes later. “We’ve firmly established that you want to go but can’t, I’m not going to give you up for some mystery man you seem to think will be lurking around Jungkook’s school, and that you think I worry entirely too much about inconsequential things.”

Namjoon took a step back from him with his arms crossed over his chest and chuckled out, “You said it, not me.”

“But there’s one last thing,” Seokjin pressed on.

“What’s that?”

Seokjin held up the tie. “Tie or no tie? Seriously. Help me out here.”

Namjoon reached out ang tugged the tie from Seokjin’s fingers. He tossed it onto the bed behind them and said confidently, “No tie, for sure. You look handsome and sophisticated enough without the tie.” He whispered theatrically to Seokjin, “A tie always makes you look older than you actually are.”

Seokjin’s eyes widened. “I wear a tie practically every day at work.”

Namjoon laughed then, and it sounded wonderful to Seokjin’s ears. “That’s fine at work,” Namjoon insisted. “Honestly, you need to look older at the clinic. The first time I saw you when I wasn’t delirious from being shot, I thought no way is this guy is old enough to be a doctor—let alone a competent or good doctor. I think your patients, at least the new ones who don’t know you so well, like you looking older. I didn’t go to college, but it’s safe to say that people probably feel better thinking that the person treating their illnesses is older and therefore likely more experienced.”

Seokjin found himself stuck on one thing as Namjoon talked, and asked the second he was done, “Did you ever consider college?”

Namjoon went quiet, like no one had ever asked him that before.

“I …”

“You’re so smart,” Seokjin pressed, “I think you underestimate how smart you are. You let yourself focus on your tasks, and the things asked of you, but I don’t think you realize how smart you are. You retain knowledge and information better than anyone I’ve ever seen, your critical thinking skills are impressive, and your ability to assess people and situations is … a testament to how your brain works. If you went to college, you’d blow them out of the water with how smart you are.”

Namjoon gave him a small smile. “That’s nice of you to say, but …”

“No buts.” Seokjin asked cautiously, “Have you thought about it?”

Ultimately, Namjoon shook his head as he said, “I finished high school. That’s enough.”

There was so much there left unsaid, that Seokjin could practically feel it hanging in the air between them, that it was almost an oppressive feeling. But he didn’t want to upset Namjoon, and he needed to leave soon, which meant there was no time to dive into the issue.

And there was certainly an issue here of some kind.

“Okay,” Seokjin decided. “No tie. Look younger. Sounds good.”

Namjoon reached back for the tie, saying, “On second thought, put the tie on. Put a couple of your ties on. Look super ugly so no one tries to steal you from me.”

Seokjin pushed past Namjoon with a laugh to get out of the bedroom, calling over his shoulder, “I definitely don’t think that’s going to happen.  I finally found someone who’s willing to put up with my stubbornness, and how moody I can be, and what a workaholic I am. You think I’m giving up you? Think again.”

The look of adoration on Namjoon’s face, and the flush of love, meant everything in the world to Seokjin.

Namjoon followed him out into the main room in the apartment, reminding, “I’m taking Jimin and Suga with me tonight, but you’ll have V and J-Hope up at the university with you.”

“As moral support?” Seokjin asked. “Or babysitters?”

“We’ve definitely gone over this before,” Namjoon told him. “No one babysits Kim Seokjin.”

“Good answer,” Seokjin said, palming his pants for his wallet. Then he was on his way to the basket near the front door where he kept his car keys. He didn’t want to be late for when the event was supposed to start, and Jungkook was already at the university with the other students, waiting for family to start arriving.

Namjoon continued trailing him all the way to the front door in order to say, “They’re there because yes, I want eyes on you while this thing goes down tonight. But also because Jungkook is their friend and they want to go. Actually, I was just going to send V with you, but Suho’s pulling in most of his guys for tonight, so I can spare J-Hope, too.”

Anxiety ran flush through Seokjin. “Are you … are you anticipating some big gunfight tonight? Or something more physical?”

“I’m always anticipating the worst,” Namjoon said honestly. “And yeah, Suho bringing basically the whole team tonight means we expect this to be huge. We’ve gotten tips before about places Infinite might pop up, but tonight it’s almost a sure bet, and we’re going in for the kill.”

Literally, Seokjin suspected.

“Then you should take Hoseok,” Seokjin found himself arguing, terrified that one person might make the difference between Namjoon being protected, and something horrible happening.

Namjoon reached out then with a shaking hand and cupped the side of Seokjin’s face. “You know Suga is my second in command, right?” Seokjin nodded. “What I think slips under the radar a lot is how much J-Hope does. How important he is. Jin, he’s very much a leader in every way he needs to be, he’s just not confrontational or upfront about it. He could be giving orders, but he doesn’t mind taking them. That makes him versatile, and valuable, and capable of carrying Bangtan on if anything happens.”

“Don’t you dare,” Seokjin said sharply. He couldn’t hear that kind of talk right before Namjoon went out and did something incredibly dangerous.

Namjoon insisted, “The men respect J-Hope, and he knows how everything works. He has all the same contacts I do. If the worst comes, he could do it. That’s why he’s going with you. Just in case.”

“Namjoon.”

“Jin,” he returned.

Namjoon used his other hand to frame Seokjin’s face completely, and to give him the kind of kiss that could have made Seokjin cry from the desperation behind it. It was the kind of kiss that had a possible goodbye in it.

“I’m don’t have any plans to let some Infinite bastard get the best of me tonight. But I’m always prepared, and I want you to be, too.”

“You tell Yoongi,” Seokjin breathed out, “that if he lets anything happen to you tonight, I’ll be the one he should be afraid of.”

“Duly noted,” Namjoon said quietly.

Steeling himself for their parting, Seokjin insisted, “I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“Could be late,” Namjoon replied.

Seokjin curled his fingers into Namjoon’s shirt and pulled him in tightly for a kiss. “I’ll wait for you,” he promised.

Namjoon would be okay, he told himself as he picked up his keys and left the apartment. Namjoon had survived some of the worst things possible, and tonight he’d have nearly an army watching out for him. And Yoongi. Above all else Yoongi would be there, and Seokjin trusted Yoongi to keep Namjoon breathing.

The parking lot at the university that Seokjin ended up pulling into was nearly full. He was forced to park some distance away from the building he was headed into, but because the sun was down now and the warmth of the season was nice, the walk wasn’t a bother.

In fact, it was much appreciated. The walk into the performing arts building took closer to three or four minutes, and Seokjin used the time to talk himself into relaxing. It was only an Open House. It was only an exhibition. Nothing about tonight made or broke Jungkook’s university studies.

“We were wondering when you’d show up,” Taehyung called out to him when Seokjin reached the lobby of the impressively big building. Seokjin had gone to a university across town for both his undergrad and postgrad work, and even then he’d spent almost all of his time away from any parts of the school that honed in on students with artistic gifts. So it was kind of amazing to walk through a lobby that was decorated with musical and artistic accolades of students, and similar paraphernalia.

“I’m not late,” Seokjin said a little defensively. He discretely checked his watch just to make sure.

Taehyung whispered at him, “I saw that.”

“You saw nothing,” Seokjin argued back playfully, then told the both of them, “Thank you for being here tonight. I know it means a lot of Jungkook that he has people he cares about, here to support him.”

In a perfect world, their father could have been present. Seokjin wasn’t certain if the man would have liked to sit through an exhibition like the one going on tonight, but Seokjin was pretty confident he would have. Maybe not their father from five years ago, but their father from just twelve months previous? That man would have.

“Of course,” Hoseok said. “Jungkook’s our friend. He matters to us. Of course we were going to be here if we could.”

Unfortunately, that just served to remind Seokjin of the mess of trouble Namjoon and Yoongi were getting themselves into that night, and why Namjoon had deliberately kept Hoseok separate.

“Where is he, anyway?” Seokjin asked. There was a trail of people heading in the direction of the building’s auditorium, but it didn’t seem likely Jungkook was there.

Taehyung shrugged. “We only got here about five minutes before you. Text him?”

Seokjin had forgotten that he’d put his phone on vibrate for the drive to the university, trying not to be even more distracted than he already was. So Jungkook’s already sent messages about the night were waiting for him when he swiped across the screen.

“He’s up on the fifth floor,” Seokjin relayed.

Warily, Hoseok asked, “Can you climb five flights of stairs?”

That did sound like tempting fate a little, and with his surgery coming up …one he had yet to inform everyone in his life about, he didn’t think now was the time to do such a thing.

He reasoned, “Maybe, if I climbed very slowly, but let’s not take that chance, okay?”

Easily enough, Taehyung decided, “Elevators it is!”

While they were waiting for the elevator in the lobby to arrive, Seokjin took a moment to consider that after his surgery, the next time he came to Jungkook’s school, he could make that climb up the stairs five flights. He’d have something in him regulating his heartbeat, and his life would get infinitely easier.

He supposed in the end, he’d put off the surgery just out of pride, and fear. But he’d already agreed to it, and practically signed his life away, so he was going ahead with it.

They look the elevator up to the fifth floor, and when they stepped out Seokjin felt even more impressed than when he’d come into the building’s lobby.

There were classrooms dotting the long hallway up ahead, the central hub from the looks of it, and each classroom was open. More interestingly, inside the classrooms there were students showing off projects, and giving demonstrations, and creating a giant scene of perfect chaos.

“Jin! Jin!”

Jungkook, who was always particularly careful when he touched Seokjin in any way, quite nearly took him down in one felled swoop. Jungkook’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist but the momentum from the speed in which he’d been going, pushed Seokjin back several steps.

It was quite a juvenile thing to both witness and be a part of, and Seokjin loved every second of it. Every day Jungkook got a little older and a little more aware of what other people thought when they saw how affectionate they were with each other. Jungkook didn’t seem to care one bit, but Seokjin harbored a fear that would change eventually.

Would Jungkook be forty and still want hugs from his big brother? What about when he was sixty? Or when Jungkook had a family of his own?

So for right now, Seokjin enjoyed the comfortable way Jungkook was around him, and that he was currently nineteen, and hugging Seokjin in broad sight of his professors, classmates, and anyone else who might drift by.

“Careful,” Seokjin told him, gripping at Jungkook’s shoulders to keep himself up. “You’ve been going to the gym lately, remember?”

“Sorry!” Jungkook said right away, getting himself standing up straight. Seokjin appreciated that Jungkook had already stopped commenting on the fact that in the past year alone Jungkook had shot up to Seokjin’s height, and had at least fifteen pounds of muscle on him.

Seokjin was still trying to content with the fact that his baby brother was much stronger than him. Though maybe after his surgery Seokjin could do a little light work at the gym.

“You came,” Jungkook breathed out in amazement.

Seokjin had thought Jungkook was talking to Taehyung or Hoseok for a second, but when he realized the comment was directed at himself, he practically snapped out, “Of course I came. You invited me, and I’m excited to see what kind of things you’ve been studying and doing.”

“I know you said you would,” Jungkook assured, “but you’re a busy guy and... and well, sometimes you get caught up at your clinic.”

Seokjin told him definitively, “I took the day off from work today to make sure I could be here for this, and no matter what, and I would never have let anything come before you and tonight.” Jungkook blushed a little, just a hint of red, and what Seokjin didn’t say was that no matter how much he loved his clinic, and how he even prioritized it over Namjoon at times, nothing came before Jungkook.

Nothing.

If he had to choose between his clinic and Jungkook, his brother was going to win each and every time. No question.

Jungkook peered around Seokjin’s form to tell Hoseok and Taehyung, “Thanks for coming guys.”

“Hey,” Taehyung said, mock outrage in his voice, “that’s all we get? A thanks for coming? You practically ran your brother over with excitement he was here, but us? We get that?”

Jungkook scoffed, reaching down to take Seokjin’s hand in his own. He said in a haughty way, “No offense, V, but you’re not my brother.” Then Jungkook was tugging him along, not too fast, but with a lot of excitement vibrating out of him.

Behind them, Taehyung said loudly, “Okay, Hobi, we definitely need to go home. You brat, Jungkook!”

“Come on, Jin,” Jungkook said, pulling him towards a classroom at the end of the hall. Seokjin glanced behind them to make sure Hoseok and Taehyung hadn’t fallen behind. But as expected, they were right on their heels, and Taehyung had a smile on his face that said he absolutely hadn’t taken Jungkook’s words as anything but lighthearted. And maybe truthful.

“Are you finally going to show me what you’ve been working on this semester?” Seokjin asked curiously. He knew that Jungkook, for the majority of his time at the University so far that year, had been working on one specific project in his music class. Jungkook had been terribly tight lipped about it, too. Seokjin hadn’t pried, but getting any information out of Jungkook about the project, had been next to impossible.

“Yep,” Jungkook said, popping the word out. “And you have to promise to be honest with me, okay? You can’t just lie and say what I’m going to show you is awesome or anything, because you’re my brother and you’re always too nice.”

“No promises,” Seokjin told him pointedly.

In a lot of aspects, he absolutely regarded Jungkook more as his child than his brother. They’d had nannies and housekeepers raising when they’d been young, while their father threw himself into his work, but for the most part, Seokjin had done the important things or Jungkook. And so Seokjin was absolutely certain that Jungkook could show him the worst project he’d ever seen in his life, but if Jungkook had put his all into it, Seokjin would certainly praise him for it.

It was akin to parents telling their children their rudimentary drawings of houses and cats, measured up to Picasso.

“Promise anyway,” Jungkook said, and directed Seokjin at a specific classroom.

“So what have you actually been working on?” Seokjin asked, Jungkook letting go of his hand once they were in the room so Seokjin could drift around and look at the other displays.

“Wait a second,” Jungkook pleaded. “I’ll go get my project and show you.”

“School wasn’t like this when I went,” Hoseok said absently as Jungkook rushed to the opposite end of the classroom.

“High school?” Seokjin asked absently.

“College,” Hoseok said in a cheeky way.

His eyebrows going high, Seokjin asked, “You went to college? You never said you went to college.”

“For a year,” Hoseok allowed. “I guess because my grades in high school were good, and my parents wanted me to. Not because I wanted to. I started studying business because they said it was a good career to make money in.”

Seokjin had heard that story often in high school. Nearly half of Seokjin’s classmates had been there with him because of pressure from their parents, and not any goals or dreams or aspirations of their own.

“What happened? Why’d you leave college?”

Hoseok said easily, in a way that indicated there was no regret on his part, “Money got really tight with my family for a while, and I needed to take on a couple extra jobs. I couldn’t work those jobs and keep my grades up, and I didn’t have any passion for what I was studying anyway. I told my parents I’d go back, after we got out of debt, but I think they always knew the truth, and to this day they haven’t so much as suggested I go back.”

“And you definitely don’t want to?”

Hoseok shrugged. “I feel like I’m doing some much more important now, and I have Tae to think about. I don’t want to be away from him the entire day, not when we can work together right now. This probably sounds clingy and terrible, but I don’t want to let him out of my sight.”

Instinctively, Seokjin looked across the classroom to where Jungkook was speaking to someone his age, but the both of them were huddled around a computer. Taehyung was watching excitedly and asking questions that they seemed to be answering.

“Fair enough,” Seokjin told him. Certainly to each their own, and Seokjin was trying to be overbearing on the subject of education to absolutely everyone he knew.

“Jin!” Jungkook called out, and waved him over.

Seokjin navigated the growing crowd in the room to reach Jungkook’s side, and was thoroughly surprised to see himself staring at a computer screen.

“This is a music class, right?” Hoseok asked with some confusion.

“Yeah,” Jungkook said easily, “we make music here, but come on, drag yourself into the twenty-first century. Sometimes we use computers to make music.”

“How?” Seokjin asked. When he looked back at the screen, he could actually see music bars being displayed, notes that could be played by what looked like a guitar. “This is music for a guitar?”

“Base guitar, specifically,” the young woman standing at Jungkook’s side supplied. She introduced herself with a small bow and said, “I’m the one who programed the music into the computer. I wrote the music for the bass guitar, layered drums over it, and now Jungkook and I are trying to decide how to give the music a little more of a full sounding effect. We want it to be playable live. This is just how we’re constructing the music.”

With a deep red tint to his face now, an obvious blush that reeked of uncertainty not embarrassment, Jungkook said, “We’re partners for the project. She’s writing the music, I’m writing the lyrics.”

They’d decided, Jungkook explained after that, at the beginning of the year to take on a most ambitious project. Jungkook and his partner hadn’t simply written a song, from the music to the lyrics, but they’d been constructing a complete masterpiece, working with the dance department at the school for an eventual live production.

“We have to finish the song still,” Jungkook warned, “it’s only about eighty percent through, but then we’re going to help choreograph the dance that goes with it, and for Finals Week, we’re going to put it all together. So you’ll get a song, and a dance, and hopefully it’ll all work out.”

“That’s beyond ambitious,” Seokjin decided, utterly proud of what his brother had been spending his time doing, on top of balancing his other classes.

The girl nodded in agreement, and Jungkook offered, “We just wanted to make a good song at first, the kind of song good enough to be played on the radio, or streamed, or downloaded. Whatever. But then we figured that we could do more. This could be more. So here it is.”

“Awesome,” Taehyung told him. “That’s so awesome, Jungkook.”

Seokjin tugged Jungkook into a half hug, pressing his brother against his side, and asked, “Do we get to hear anything from this song? A sample?”

Jungkook warned, “The music is almost completely recorded, but the lyrics haven’t been. We reserved the recording studio on campus for next Thursday. So yeah, you can hear some of it, but I might have to sing the lyrics?”

Assuredly, Taehyung said to the rest of them, “Jungkook lived with me for about a week once, and the apartment had like paper thin walls.  He can sing.”

Seokjin had known that already. But even if Jungkook had been the worst singer in the world, he would have wanted to hear him.

Seokjin wasn’t sure what kind of beat or tempo he’d expected before the song started, but a smooth and modern sounding R&B track reached Seokjin’s ears, and when a heavier drum beat kicked in just a few seconds later, the music sounded powerful. More than that, the production value was extremely impressive.

And then Jungkook started to sing.

It was evident he was extremely nervous when he started, with his voice cracking a little as he fought to find himself in the music. But then he appeared to find his confidence just after that, sounding more seasoned, more comfortable, and Seokjin was just … he was floored.

Awed.

Absolutely proud.

Jungkook’s partner cautioned when the minute or so long clip of the song was done, “We’re still putting it together, and you’re meant to see this as much as hear it, so you have to keep in mind there’d be a dance that goes along with it, but this is it. This is what we’re working on.”

“Jin?” Jungkook asked nervously, sounding like no one else’s opinion in the world mattered.

 Seokjin could related.

“I think,” Seokjin said slowly, hoping his words hit as hard as he wanted them to, “that if the final product is a reflection on what I just heard, and your plans come to fruition, that if your professor doesn’t give you top marks, I will be talking to the Dean of the University.”

“Jin!” Jungkook squeaked out, even as Taehyung laughed.

“Incoming big brother!” Taehyung called out.

Hoseok joined in, “Evacuate now!”

With a hiss, Jungkook said quietly, “Jin, you can’t just threaten to go above my professor’s head to the Dean!”

Frankly, Seokjin said, “I can if he isn’t willing to recognize the masterpiece you’re working on.”

Seokjin had yet to hear the entire song, but it sounded better than most of what he heard in the car as he was driving along, and he’d be damned if an actual teacher didn’t recognize that.

“Jin,” Jungkook whined out, but he looked pleased at all the praise he was receiving.

“I think you’re brilliant,” Seokjin said, turning their half hug into something much fuller. “You’re going to have to deal with it. But don’t let it go to your head, okay?”

Jungkook grinned at him. “Nice to know I’m not the only brilliant son in the family, now.”

Startled a little by the words, Seokjin vowed, “That was never the case.”

Seokjin was struck with some horrible thought that maybe Jungkook had grown up feeling inferior in some way. Jungkook had never said anything on the matter, but what if he had felt that way? What if he’d felt that way and Seokjin had been too busy with himself and his own life to realize it? The thought made him feel ill.

“Can we go look at the other projects?” Taehyung asked, rocking on his feet in an excited way as he glanced around.

“Of course,” Jungkook said with a shrug. “Give me a second to close all this down on the computer, and then I’ll show you the other projects that I think are the coolest.”

For all the worry and anxiety Seokjin had been carrying around about what to wear, or how he might reflect on Jungkook to his peers, an hour later he was so utterly thankful he’d come in the first place. Seokjin was actually enjoying himself more than he’d thought was possible, and he was far from bored.

They’d started on the fifth floor with Jungkook’s project, but quickly enough they’d gone to look at the other projects being displayed, and not just on the fifth floor. Seokjin didn’t think there was enough time to even get through a fraction of the happy students looking to show off their hard work, but Seokjin wanted to try.

He was enjoying seeing Jungkook interact with his peers, and liked feeling reassured that Jungkook had friends at school. In fact, he seemed fairly popular, which a bit wasn’t a surprise. Jungkook had always been the more social of the two of them. Jungkook made friends easily.

They’d just taken a break at the refreshment table that University had provided, Jungkook still munching down on a couple of treats, when Seokjin felt his phone alarm vibrate in his pocket. He nearly ignored it, thinking it was just an email or text message, but a moment of reflection more reminded him of his new medication schedule.

On top of agreeing to the surgery, Minah had gotten him started on different medication meant to hold him over until then. Seokjin had started taking it at night, after he had dinner, to help the change settle in, and to remind himself not to take the old medication which he still had plenty of.

“Don’t confuse yourself,” Minah had warned when she’d written the prescription for the new heart medication. “The last thing we need you to do is overdose and ruin your chances of having this surgery on time. Or, you know, kill yourself.”

She’d said the words in a joking way, but also quite firmly.

So Seokjin was being extra careful to disregard the old medication he used to take in the morning, and replaced it with the new pills he took at night. And these new pills absolutely had to be taken on a full stomach, so now seemed the perfect opportunity to do so. He’d gotten a juice from the refreshment’s table, and a couple of snacks. He certainly wasn’t full, and was going to propose that he and Jungkook go out afterwards for a late night snack, but he had enough in him currently to take the pills.

“I’m going to run down to the car for a second, okay?” Seokjin told Jungkook, touching his sleeve.

“For what?” Jungkook asked right away.

“That’s not your business, little brother.” Seokjin punctuated the title. He insisted, “I’ll be back in a second.”

Jungkook made to go after him, taking a deliberate step forward, but Seokjin was faster. He just needed to get down to his car and get the pills he’d stashed in the glove compartment. He didn’t need Jungkook coming with him, seeing the pills, and asking questions. Jungkook could be oblivious at times.  Jungkook tended to pay attention to the things that interested him. But Jungkook absolutely knew the pills he'd taken in the past were white and an off yellow color, and the new ones were white and blue. He’d ask questions.

Seokjin was going to tell Jungkook about the changes to his health. He was going to tell him about the new medication and surgery. But he wasn’t going to do it until he absolutely had to. He didn’t want Jungkook being distracted right now. Jungkook had enough to worry about.

It felt like it took an eternity to get down to the car, but the pills were waiting for him in the glovebox right where he’d left them, and he had them swallowed down with a spare bottle of water in the car, in a manner of seconds.

He shut the car door and looked up at the building Jungkook was still in. Since arriving the sun had gone down completely, and now the building was lit up against the black backdrop of the night sky. It was pretty in a way buildings typically weren’t, and Seokjin thought it was only fitting that a building meant for students of the arts, was designed to be aesthetically pleasing.

Fumbling to hit the lock button on the keychain, Seokjin started his way back to the building, and back to Jungkook.

But he couldn’t help thinking, was Namjoon okay? How were things going tonight? Was Namjoon in danger, or was he wreaking hell on Infinite?

Before Seokjin could even get to the end of his row, his thoughts still on Namjoon, a shadow cut in front of him.

“You would think,” Dongwoo said, coming into sight fully and confidently, with nothing to hide, “that with the amount of people out for your blood, you’d be a little more aware of your surroundings.”

Seokjin froze, fear clutching at him.

With a big grin on his face, Dongwoo asked, “Aren’t you scared?”

Yes, very much so, Seokjin nearly said. Even if it was just one man blocking his way.

He could run, Seokjin told himself, but there was a good possibility that Dongwoo could run him down, and that wasn’t even taking into consideration the fact that Dongwoo probably had a gun on him, and likely wouldn’t hesitate to shoot. There weren’t any other members of Infinite around that Seokjin could see, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

“Should I be?” Seokjin asked, trying to buy time to find more options.

Dongwoo shrugged, and replied, “You shouldn’t be alone.”

Then he was advancing forward, and Seokjin had no idea what was coming his direction, other than trouble.


	33. Chapter Thirty-Three

Instinctively, Seokjin took a step back as Dongwoo moved forward. His mind was screaming at him to run, and Seokjin was desperately trying to make himself stay. Running, no matter the urge, was a phenomenally bad idea. Running would only result in him being shot. Running, even if it was instinctual, was a bad, bad idea.

Seokjin locked his knees, refusing to move, and sucked in a sharp breath. No matter what Dongwoo wanted from him, Seokjin wasn’t going to turn tail and run. He’d never let Infinite push him around before, and he wasn’t about to start now.

“Here’s the thing,” a new voice said, and Seokjin was sure his face gave his elation away, as Hoseok curved around a car behind Dongwoo, “He’s not alone.”

The air that Seokjin had been holding in him, prepping for whatever Dongwoo planned to do to him, whooshed out of him sharply, and Seokjin almost felt himself deflate with the action.

Hoseok.

That was definitely Hoseok standing behind Dongwoo. That was Hoseok who’d spoken and given Seokjin relief that he wasn’t alone. And that was definitely a gun in Hoseok’s hand, pointed at Dongwoo’s head in a steady and unflinching way.

How had Hoseok known to come down to the parking lot? When Seokjin had taken his leave from Jungkook’s side, Taehyung had been making another sweep by the food tables set up, and Hoseok had been asking another student questions about a project that seemed to be mapping the physics of acrobatic dancing.

Neither Hoseok nor Taehyung had given any indication that they were aware that he was leaving. And Jungkook had been irritated he was going off on his own, but he hadn’t followed after him, or asked him not to go.

But something had tipped Hoseok off.

That or Hoseok truly was more perceptive than Seokjin had ever truly given him credit for.

“You aren’t disappointing me,” Dongwoo said cheerily, seemingly nonplused that a gun was half a dozen feet from him, and pointed most certainly square at his forehead. “I really appreciate that.”

Lowly and evenly, Hoseok ordered, “Get away from him.”

Dongwoo didn’t move, instead challenging, “I really do appreciate you keeping me interested tonight. Things have been so boring lately. But you should be the one who steps back.”

Hoseok scoffed, head tilting. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Hoseok was … Hoseok was a sweet boy. Seokjin had always thought that about him. Hoseok could be a little hyperactive at times, or get a little too worked up about something, but he was kind, and funny, and friendly. He was the kind of friend that everyone hoped to have some day, and above all else, he was as loyal as they came. Hoseok was someone to be trusted and relied upon.

But the man standing in front of him now, holding the gun? Seokjin barely even recognized him as his friend. This man, wearing Hoseok’s face, had the eyes of a killer, and seemed more than willing to back up the threat his gun was. His whole persona gave Seokjin a full body shiver that lingered.

Hoseok pressed on, “Do you think you’re still some top dog? Are you forgetting what happened to Infinite? You don’t call the shots here anymore. You’re a rat, scurrying along the gutter somewhere, just trying to buy a couple extra minutes before the exterminator gets you.”

There was a tightness to the smile at Dongwoo’s mouth now, one that made it look suddenly less genuine. Hoseok had definitely hit a sore spot.

“Trust me,” Dongwoo said suddenly, unexpectedly, “that sort of overconfidence? It’s a killer.”

Hoseok assured, “I’ll take my chances. So I’m going to tell you one more time, and only one more time, move away from Doctor Kim.”

Because, Seokjin quickly calculated, shooing Dongwoo at the angle they were all currently standing at, would likely end up in Seokjin getting shot as well. Dongwoo was standing too close to Seokjin, and Hoseok looked like he didn’t want to take a chance of that happening. Seokjin really appreciated that.

“Tell me again who I think I am?” Dongwoo pressed.

Hoseok looked a bit confounded.

And that was all Dongwoo needed to say to him, “You think I’m down and out. You think I’m someone who still thinks he’s important, but really has no relevance. You think I’m a threat, but not the threat I used to be. And you think that you can stop me from doing whatever I want here, with that gun as leverage.”

Hoseok didn’t rebuke any of those words.

As if he was speaking to a child, Dongwoo told him, “But really, what I am is someone who didn’t come alone, either.”

Hoseok tensed, but he didn’t drop his aim from Dongwoo. But Seokjin could see the nervousness in him, and the need to look around and assess what kind of danger he’d suddenly been clued into.

Hoseok couldn’t, however. Dongwoo didn’t look like he was armed, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t, and even without a gun, he was probably insanely dangerous. So Hoseok couldn’t create that kind of an opening for Dongwoo. Seokjin, however, was under no such limitations.

And when he started looking, it wasn’t hard to see them. The other people there. And there were a lot of them.

“Jin?” Hoseok asked, maintaining eye contact with Dongwoo.

“Half a dozen,” Seokjin said quickly. “Maybe more.”

Dongwoo leaned in Hoseok’s direction and asked, “What’s the proverb about assumptions?”

Hoseok grit his teeth, and said stoutly, “I’m not letting you take him. Even if I have to shoot you in the face.”

The tenseness from Dongwoo’s face had vanished by then, and he posed, “I think quite the opposite of that, actually. In fact, I’m going to go out on a limb here, and make a prediction.”

“What kind of prediction?”

The men around them, Infinite’s men, Dongwoo’s men, were inching in closer now. Nothing about the gathering looked out of the ordinary, though. They were placed just so that to anyone looking down on them from up in the building, would just see a cluster of people.

Oh, Seokjin saw women too, now. There were even more men than women present, but each of them looked more deadly than the last.

“You’re not only going to let me take Doctor Kim,” Dongwoo said, almost gloatingly, “but you’re going to thank me for taking him off your hands.”

Hoseok’s hand with the gun trembled on a little, but probably more out of frustration and anger, than exhaustion.

“I know, I know,” Dongwoo said in a pitchy way, “that sounds crazy. But you know what else I am?” When Hoseok didn’t reply, Dongwoo bounced a little on his feet and edged out, “Ask! Ask!”

“What?” Hoseok managed to get out, but just barely.

“I’m also someone,” Dongwoo said with a flourish, “who is always prepared to take advantage of a perfect opportunity.”

That was when Seokjin saw them, the pair of them, behind Hoseok. Hoseok was facing Seokjin, so he couldn’t see what was going on, but that was probably a godsend in the moment.

“Don’t do this,” Seokjin said sharply, eyes widening. “Don’t.”

“Don’t do what?” Dongwoo asked, swinging back to Seokjin fearlessly, putting his back to Hoseok and the gun. “Don’t do what your little boyfriend would have done in a second?”

“What?” Hoseok demanded, searching out Seokjin’s eyes. “What’s going on?”

Dongwoo gestured for the pair that Seokjin could see to move forward, and that was when Taehyung came into view, practically up on his tiptoes trying to avoid the sharp knife that was digging into his side hard enough to have already drawn blood. Seokjin could see the small, but blooming stain of red against the white of Taehyung’s shirt.

The knife was being held there by a woman shorter than Taehyung, but not by much. She seemed to be taking great pleasure in driving the knife in bit by bit, and walked Taehyung forward confidently.

It was just so jarring to see so many women, affiliated with Infinite, there. Seokjin had been exposed to Infinite a great deal, and he hadn’t seen any women during those times. Whether they were purposely not included, or simply too few for Seokjin to run into, he’d almost believed that Infinite was made up wholly of men.

Except something contrary to that was staring him back in the face. None of the women here, least of all the one threatening to jam a blade up into Taehyung’s ribs, looked new or fresh faced. All the women looked seasoned and capable of doling out just as much murder and mayhem as any man.

Especially the one with Taehyung. She was gorgeous, absolutely breathtakingly beautiful, but more than that, her hand was steady as she held Taehyung’s life in her hands.

And she absolutely was. Seokjin only needed to glance at the angle of the knife, and the placement of it along Taehyung’s side, to be absolutely sure that out there in the middle of a parking lot, if she struck like the viper she appeared to be, Taehyung would be dead in minutes.

“Go ahead and say hi,” Dongwoo goaded. He gave Hoseok a phony look of concern. “I hope my information wasn’t wrong. This is the one you love, right?”

Unable to help himself then, Hoseok spun, face losing all it color and the hand with the gun falling in shock.

But it only lasted a second. To Hoseok’s credit, and in an impressive way, Hoseok cleared the distance between himself and Dongwoo in just a few long strides, and then he was jamming his gun into Dongwoo’s forehead and demanding, “If you don’t let him go right now I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.”

Taehyung gave a yelp of pain, the knife digging in deeper.

And Seokjin? He just felt useless. His voice was shaking as he called out, “Everyone needs to calm down! Everyone!”

“Go ahead,” Dongwoo said almost jovially, “shoot me! And then your little boyfriend bleeds out all over this parking lot, and we get the doctor anyway.”

Hoseok was shaking with furry as Taehyung called out firmly, “Don’t listen to that little cockroach! We don’t make deals with pests, especially at the expense of our friends.”

The bloodstain at Taehyung’s side was growing, and he gave a shout of pain to accompany it.

“Stop!” Seokjin shouted at Hoseok. “Or you’ll lose control of the situation.”

The look on Hoseok’s face said he already acknowledged that he had. Now was about damage control.

With a loud growl of anger, Hoseok dropped the gun.

And in a second, some of the tension floating around them released.

At least Taehyung gave a sigh as some of the pressure on the knife let up.

Fed up, Seokjin took a steady step forward, pinging himself as the least threatening person there. He didn’t think any of his movements would cause Taehyung to be hurt, or Hoseok for that matter.

And Jungkook

Oh, god, Jungkook was still inside, and it wouldn’t be long before he noticed Taehyung and Hoseok were gone, or got suspicious as to why Seokjin was taking so long. If Jungkook came down and walked straight into what was happening …

“What do you want?” Seokjin asked bluntly, squaring his shoulders. “Just tell us what you want, and we can be done here.” Seokjin narrowed his gaze and said, “Maybe it doesn’t matter to you, but for those of us with a heart, no one else should get dragged into this. And the longer we all stand out here, the better the chances that someone is going to stumble across what’s happening.”

Quizzically, Dongwoo asked, “Did I ever tell you that I like you? I definitely like you.”

Recalling the words from earlier, Seokjin asked, “You want me to come with you?”

A bit of the fun fell away from Dongwoo, and he said more seriously, “You and I have some things to talk about. That’s all I want, plain and simple.”

“To talk?” Taehyung gasped out, disbelief in his tone. “Don’t believe him, Jin. Cockroaches never just want to talk.”

Dongwoo seemed to ignore Taehyung for the most part, and Hoseok for the matter, too. Instead he focused on Seokjin and said, “Believe me or not, that’s what I want.”

Seokjin scoffed, “And you just decided to ambush me at my brother’s school for a little chat?”

Dongwoo rocked back on his feet a little. “Seemed like a good idea at the time. After all, your boyfriend is a little busy at the moment, so I figured a good opportunity is a good opportunity.”

Seokjin’s stomach bottomed out at that. Whatever Namjoon was getting up to, probably at that very moment, Dongwoo knew about. Which meant the rest of Infinite knew as well.

Which meant …

Which meant that Seokjin needed to defuse the situation immediately, so Hoseok and Taehyung could get word to Bangtan, if it wasn’t already too late.

“Fine, Seokjin snapped out.

Like a kneejerk reaction, Hoseok barked out, “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Not even to save your boyfriend’s life?” Dongwoo asked inquisitively.  “Everyone tells me you live together. That you love each other. You’d throw his life away for Doctor Kim’s?”

Seokjin just felt sick now. How long had Infinite been watching Bangtan’s members? Learning everything they could about them now that their real identities were exposed.

“What he says doesn’t matter,” Seokjin said firmly, ignoring the near murderous look that Hoseok was giving him.

And then, as if to back the look up, Hoseok said, “You go anywhere with them over my dead body.” He still had the gun in his hand.

Seokjin worried that’s what it would come to.

At nearly the same time, Dongwoo asked, “How about over his?” His head knocked towards Taehyung, and immediately the woman at his side began digging his knife into him with fervor. Blood drained down Taehyung’s side, and Hoseok lunged towards him, only catching himself at the last second as Dongwoo warned, “If you touch him, I’ll have him killed.”

Hoseok sputtered to stop.

Seokjin repeated, “It doesn’t matter what he says. I’ll go with you.” He didn’t think for a second Dongwoo just wanted to talk, but he wasn’t going to let his friends get hurt. “I’ll go, without a fuss, and with a promise that I won’t try and get away at any time, if you promise in return to let my friends go.”

“Seriously?” Taehyung managed to get out, still straining.  “Jin, they’re liars.”

“Are you?” Seokjin asked Dongwoo. He took a risk, a gamble, and said, “Kim Sunggyu wasn’t. Of all the things he was, he wasn’t a liar. Are you?”

For the first time, Seokjin couldn’t read the expression that was on Dongwoo’s face.

“All right,” Dongwoo said finally, cheer slipping back on his face. “You come with us, and they go without a fight. That’s the deal.”

Seokjin sagged with relief.

“Under one condition.”

“What’s that?” Hoseok broke in, and Seokjin had never seen him so furious.

Simply, Dongwoo said to Hoseok, “I want you to do what I said you were going to do from the start. I want you to thank me. In fact, I’m going to need you to get down on your knees, and thank me for taking Doctor Kim off your hands, so your boyfriend can live. Go on, whenever you’re ready.”

This wasn’t about a defeat of any kind, Seokjin realized. This about purely about humiliation, and Dongwoo wanted it all.

As payback? As penance? Seokjin didn’t know, but Dongwoo was absolutely waiting.

“This is a timed deal,” Dongwoo stated. “The good doctor is right. The second someone stumbles upon us, and realizes what’s happening, we’re done. And probably a lot of people die here tonight.”

Seokjin watched the way Hoseok was looking at Taehyung, with worry and love and anger all wrapped up into one look.

“Or,” Dongwoo threw in, like he just couldn’t help himself, “we’ll leave now. We’ll leave Doctor Kin here, in your care.”

“What’s the catch?” Hoseok demanded, his finger still resting on the trigger to the gun.

Dongwoo looked to Seokjin and asked, “If my girl over there puts that knife in V as hard as she can, what do you think the chances are you can save him?”

And there it was, the impossible choice. The impossibly unfair choice that Dongwoo was presenting Hoseok with. Hoseok could either lose Seokjin, or he could lose Taehyung.

“I …” Hoseok fumbled for words.

“Do not trade me for Jin,” Taehyung ordered, sounding fierce. “I swear to god, if you trade me for Jin I’ll kick your ass!”

Hoseok’s eyes flickered between Taehyung and Seokjin.

“I’ll be fine,” Seokjin assured, trying to sound confident, even if he wasn’t. “I promise, J-Hope. Save him. He won’t survive if he starts to bleed out in this parking lot. I won’t be able to save him.”

In a pitiful way, one that was so hard to watch, Hoseok lowered himself slowly to his knees, and set his gun on the floor.

It was heartbreaking and cruel, and in that moment, Seokjin hated Dongwoo for it. For all Infinite had done to him in the past, Seokjin had never had a reason to hate Dongwoo. Except he did now. For seeing what Dongwoo was making Seokjin’s friend do, and the respect that was being stolen, Seokjin hated Dongwoo.

“Please,” Hoseok ground out, sounding pained. And he wasn’t looking at Dongwoo, or even Seokjin. He was only looking at Taehyung, who was pale now from blood loss, and swaying on his feet. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Enough!” Seokjin shouted angrily. Then he said again, softer, “Enough. Please.”

For a moment Dongwoo didn’t move, but then he was shrugging, and he agreed, “Okay. We’re done here.” One row ahead a car was backing out of a spot, a car that Seokjin wouldn’t have ever known to look at, and the back door opened. Dongwoo warned Hoseok, “if you take a swing at anyone before we’re gone, I’ll kill Doctor Kim. I really don’t want to, but you’ll have forced my hand.”

“I won’t,” Hoseok said, still on his knees, throwing the darkest look at Dongwoo that Seokjin could have ever thought Hoseok capable of.

“Perfect,” Dongwoo said with pep. He looped his arm through Seokjin’s and jerked him towards the car. “Come on, we have a lot to talk about.”

Just as Seokjin was tumbling his way into the backseat of the car, he was able to look behind to see Taehyung collapsed to the ground, and Hoseok scrambling to his side. Seokjin tried to see more, tried to assess how hurt Taehyung was, but the car door shut sharply after that, and the car was speeding off.

“Well,” Dongwoo said, settling into a seat, “that was exciting.”

There was a man in the front seat, aside from the driver, but neither of them seemed interested in the least in what Dongwoo was saying. Or at least they were pretending not to.

“Exciting?” Seokjin asked in disbelief. “You nearly killed one of my best friends.”

Dongwoo waved him off. “Sujeong barely nicked him.”

Seokjin bit down on his tongue any of the words that wanted to come after that. Whoever that girl had been, Sujeong, she hadn’t just nicked Taehyung. Should could have killed him, and the look on her face had said with every fiber of her being, she’d wanted to.

“Were you telling the truth before?” Seokjin asked. “Do you really just want to talk, or was that a ruse.”

“Of course I want to talk,” Dongwoo said in a defensive way. “I meant what I said.”

A little flabbergasted, Seokjin posed, “Why go through this elaborate plan? Why tonight? Why this way?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I have a clinic. You know where it is. You know I’m there basically every day. You’ve always known where to find me.”

Dongwoo arched an eyebrow. “And have Jimin shoot me in the face when I get within five feet of the front doors?”

“You’re cleverer than that,” Seokjin said with a scoff. “I fully believe you’re more than capable of getting into my clinic, to stand face to face with me, without altering anyone who might be prone to shooting you in the face.”

“Maybe,” Dongwoo allowed, but he didn’t sound absolutely certain. “But whether I could or not doesn’t matter. Taking it to your clinic would make this gang business.”

Startled a little, Seokjin asked, “And this isn’t?”

“No,” Dongwoo said with ease. He narrowed his gaze onto his phone and seemed to be enthralled in a game more than the conversation going on. “It’s personal.”

Personal? How? Seokjin had a million questions to stack on top of a million worries. But Dongwoo looked done with speaking to him, and the more important matter at hand was doing his best to track where they were headed.

Seokjin paid extra careful attention to the streets as they passed by in a dark blur. He knew where they were for now, but they were quickly headed out of the city in the most direct way possible, and Seokjin suspected his chances for a rescue would diminish significantly when Seoul was behind them. He’d given Dongwoo his word he wouldn’t try and get away, in exchange for Taehyung’s safety, but a rescue bypassed that promise.

And it didn’t take long before Seokjin stopped recognizing the street names, and then Seoul was just a gleaming light in the distance. They’d been driving for almost thirty minutes, by that point, and Dongwoo hadn’t said a single word to him since. Seokjin thought that was just fine, but his nerves were frayed further with each passing minute.

Was he bring driven to his death? Dongwoo said he wanted to talk, but that seemed like such a superfluous thing for the big production Dongwoo had made at the university.

The car pulled to a stop in front of an eatery specializing in deserts and sweet treats, and Seokjin, more than anything else, was just confused.

“What?” Dongwoo asked, taking in the look on his face. “Did you think I was going to take you to our super-secret home base?”

“I mean … no …” Seokjin managed. “But I didn’t think you were taking me to somewhere ice cream is served.” Honestly, he’d expected a damp basement somewhere, with Hoya lurking in the shadows.

“Ice cream,” Dongwoo said happily, and popped open his door. “Let’s go get something to eat. This place serves mochi, you know. The real deal, too, not just a Korean knockoff.”

Seokjin didn’t move from the car. He could see people inside the eatery, enjoying treats. There were parents with their children, and teenagers, and none of them looked like they could possibly be associated with Infinite in any way. Which meant they were normal and innocent, and Seokjin was fearful that they’d be hurt in some way.

Standing near the car, Dongwoo turned back to Seokjin and said, “We came here because like I said earlier, this is personal business, and not any other kind. And contrary to the torture you must be thinking I want to inflict on you, I just want you to answer my questions.”

Seokjin gripped the handle on the door to the car. He couldn’t trust Dongwoo.

His typical smile splitting on his face, Dongwoo warned, “I want this to go as nicely as possible. But if you don’t get out of the car right now, and tell me what kind of ice cream you want, I’m going to pull you out by your hair, and make all these people watch.”

Seokjin let go of the door handle, feeling faint.

He’d often thought that members of Infinite were … unhinged, to say the least. Sungyeol and Sungjong had exhibited symptoms of personality disorders, Hoya was absolutely a sadist, and who knew about the rest of them. Dongwoo and Myungsoo had seemed the most normal, but the wild swings in Dongwoo’s personality were making Seokjin rethink his position on the matter.

Seokjin got out of the car, nonetheless. He wasn’t going to be responsible for anyone getting hurt.

Playing along with whatever game Dongwoo was forcing them to participate in, Seokjin ordered a scoop of peach ice cream, and a special strawberry mochi. Both items looked delicious, but his stomach was revolting at the thought of eating any of it.

That wasn’t the case for Dongwoo who was tearing through the three multicolored scoops of ice cream in front of him, with a piece of cake sitting off to the side, and at least a half-pound of mochi just waiting to be eaten.

It was a little disgusting, actually, but Seokjin reserved that comment. And he waited until Dongwoo had gotten through the ice cream and started on the cake before he asked, “What did you want to ask me?”

Dongwoo returned, “Aren’t you gonna eat your ice cream? It’s melting.”

Seokjin looked to the bowl where his one scoop of peace ice cream had almost completely melted, despite the cool temperature in the shop.

“I can’t just eat whatever I want,” Seokjin said plainly, never so happy to use his health as an excuse. “I have to eat healthy. You know I have a condition.”

Dongwoo didn’t look swayed. “With your heart. Not your stomach.”

Seokjin wondered, “Do you know anything about the human body?”

“Not really,” Dongwoo said. “School was boring.”

Seokjin gripped the edge of the table tightly, watching the people in the shop mill around and pass by without any hint that they were so close to danger. And the two men that had been in the car with them earlier, were still out there, waiting and watching.

Jungkook had to know he was gone by now. Hoseok had probably gone right for Jungkook, and hopefully the pair of them and Taehyung had gotten word to Namjoon and the others that Infinite already knew about what was going on that night. And with any luck, they were trying to hunt him down at the moment.

“Gyu and I used to go to this one ice cream shop when we were younger,” Dongwoo said, his face seemingly lighting at the memory. “We never had any money, and the owner used to run us off with her boom and she hit hard, too. But her husband was really nice, and once in a while he’d sneak us a scoop we could share. Gyu always let me have most of it.”

Seokjin had just assumed, naturally, that Sunggyu and the other members of Infinite had come together out of like mindedness. But the way Dongwoo spoke about Sunggyu? They had a real history there.

“Gyu was like that,” Dongwoo said in a quiet, observant way. Like he was paying some kind of respect.

Seokjin had no respect to pay Sunggyu, but it was fascinating to watch Dongwoo talk about him.

“I read the report.”

Seokjin straightened in his seat. It seemed they were finally going to get to the crux of what was going on.

“What report?”

Dongwoo dragged his fork through the cake, making a mess more than eating any of it.

“The police report,” Dongwoo said. “The one that was filed after Sunggyu’s death. I read it because I had to know what happened, but I don’t believe it.”

Seokjin felt like he was back in that apartment, the old one he used to stay at with Namjoon, and he was back in the kitchen. He could feel the sleepiness in his body, and the frigid temperature of the water he’d dropped on the floor when he’d first seen Sunggyu in the kitchen.

“I didn’t lie,” Seokjin said with certainty. “The police asked for my statement, after they came, and I told them everything. I told them the truth.”

Dongwoo hummed a little. “So he killed himself then? Just shot himself in the head like it was nothing?” There was disbelief in Dongwoo’s tone.

Outside, the night sky lit brilliantly with a flash of lightening, and like the gunshot that had sounded in the apartment the night Sunggyu had died, thunder boomed.

“Summer storm,” Seokjin said quietly.

“Here’s the thing,” Dongwoo said, as drops of rain began to fall from the sky. If Seokjin had been outside to feel them, they probably would have been warm. “Sunggyu lost a lot that night, but he wasn’t the suicidal type. I knew him about as well as you know your brother, so trust me when I say he was the kind of person to fight until the very end, and not give up—suicide was giving up. So I don’t believe you.”

Like the heavens had opened up, the drops of rain from only a second earlier were now sheets of water, lightening hitting again and again as thunder followed.

“He would have never,” Dongwoo said, punctuating each word, “just killed himself like that.”

So this, clearly, was what Dongwoo had meant when he’d said this was personal, and not related to Infinite or Bangtan.

“He came there that night to kill me,” Seokjin told Dongwoo, poking absently at the mochi that looked more like art than food. “We stood in my kitchen, and he accused me of bringing Infinite down from the inside.”

Dongwoo chuckled a little. “I’d think that too, if you had any idea what you were doing.”

Lowering his voice because there were children nearby, Seokjin insisted, “I never wanted anything to do with Infinite or Bangtan. You know that. Put away what side each of us falls on, you know I’m not a member of Bangtan, I won’t ever be, and I find this gang business borderline appalling. I have always just been concerned about my brother, and I have always just done what I can to protect him. If Infinite had left him alone, I would have never been in a position to do any harm to Infinite.”

In a wonderous way, Dongwoo said, “I bet if things had been different, if everything had been different, you and Sunggyu would have been great friends.”

“Excuse me?”

Dongwoo just shrugged. “You’re both straightforward and no-nonsense kinds of people.”

It wasn’t something Seokjin missed that Dongwoo was speaking about Sunggyu in the current tense. It must have been difficult to rectify the loss of Sunggyu, even so long after it had happened. Because Dongwoo spoke like they were truly friends. Maybe even best friends.

Once more, Dongwoo requested, “Tell me the truth. This isn’t Infinite asking Bangtan. This is me, asking you about someone I was willing to die for and loved and considered a brother and was sworn to protect.

Seokjin could have been cruel, of course. He could have lied, or withheld the truth, or led Dongwoo on, or any number of things. But Seokjin wasn’t that kind of person, and on top of that, Dongwoo had made a deal he hadn’t needed to make. He could have killed Taehyung and Hoseok, or at least hurt them badly, and taken Seokjin anyway.

“Please,” Dongwoo pressed.

Seokjin forced himself to take a small bite of his mochi to pass at least a little more time, then he divulged, “In order for you to understand what happened that night, you have to know that Rap Mon figured out Sunggyu’s secret a long time ago.”

With the poker face of a champion, Dongwoo asked, “What secret?”

Patiently, Seokjin said, “That Sunggyu has a little sister. And he didn’t just know that she existed, he knew everything about her. Someone dug up a lot of information on her, from where she lives, to what school she goes to, to what she wants to be when she grows up.”

“How?” Dongwoo demanded. “Gyu buried her as deep as he could.  He took a dozen extra steps to hide where she was, and her relation to him. No one should have been able to.”

Surprisingly, the mochi was settling him a little, so Seokjin took another bite. “Someone who is desperate can do anything.”

Fury lit in Dongwoo, like Seokjin had never seen in him before, and he rose up in his seat to his at Seokjin, “If anyone even so much as looks at her, I will rip their throat out. With my bare hands.”

Trying not to be shaken, Seokjin reminded, “Rap Mon knew about her for a while, and he didn’t touch her. I’m not even sure he told more than a handful of very trusted people. Maybe he just told Suga and me. And it’s going to stay that way. Rap Mon isn’t someone who goes after children. He isn’t a monster.”

Dongwoo sank slowly into his seat, reminding, “She is just a child. And now she’s a heartbroken child who doesn’t understand why her brother died, and what to do without him.”

“I told him,” Seokjin said abruptly, locking eyes with Dongwoo. “The night Sunggyu died, I told him that Namjoon knew about her. I was trying to calm him down. I was trying to save myself from being shot. Mostly I was trying to tell him that Rap Mon knew about her, but that she was safe, and no matter what had happened between Infinite and Bangtan, he was never going to target her.”

Dongwoo was the one gripping the table then, looking ill.

“I tried,” Seokjin urged, voice cracking. “I swear to you I tried to tell him she was safe, but he was panicking, and I don’t think he could even hear what I was saying by then. He thought Rap Mon was going after her. He thought it was because of him. So he shot himself, to protect her. He shot himself, to end this feud.”

Only hadn’t ended, had it? Infinite and Bangtan were still at war, people were still dying, and the only thing that had happened was that the matter had gone from out in the open in the streets, to something much more underground.

“That’s why he shot himself,” Seokjin said quietly. “Because he panicked and thought Rap Mon was going to hurt his sister. It was a miscommunication born of fear.”

Dongwoo’s fork clattered onto the plate and he sat back in a heavy way.

Outside rain pounded on the window. People ran for their cars. And the shop was clearing out more because of the weather than how late it was growing.

“Gyu …” Dongwoo started, but then broke off.

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin offered. He wasn’t sorry that Sunggyu was dead, because Sunggyu would have never stopped trying to kill Namjoon. But he was sorry that one person had lost their best friend, and that Sunggyu had killed himself based on an assumption.

Grimly, Dongwoo said, “Okay. That … that makes more sense, I guess. Sunggyu … he loved his sister more than I thought it was possible to love someone. Everything he did was to make the world a better place for her. And to protect her? Yeah, he would have done that.”

Seokjin jumped a little when lightening flashed closer than before, and the thunder came almost right after it. The storm was nearly on top of them.

“He gave up everything for her,” Dongwoo said, eyes drifting like he wasn’t even talking to Seokjin anymore. “Think about the worst thing that you would have to let happen to you, to protect someone else, and double it. That’s what Sunggyu did. For a while, he lost who he was. He got lost in what people were doing to him. But he never lost sight of her.”

“Dongwoo,” Seokjin tried.

Dongwoo interrupted, “He raised her. He changed her diapers, he taught her to read, and he kept her fed. When their asshole parents tried to trade her off to some degenerate when she was twelve for drugs, Sunggyu went in her place. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t give up for her, even his dignity, and even his innocence.”

Seokjin clamped down on his fingers in his lap to stop them from shaking.

Slumping even further in his seat, Dongwoo breathed out, “Fuck.”

In a lot of ways, Seokjin had known that the conflict between Infinite and Bangtan was black and white. Infinite wanted to rule over people with an iron fist, by their rules, and by their definition of fair. And Bangtan wanted to give the neighborhood back to its people. But in a lot of other ways, many things were a matter of perspective. Seokjin saw Sunggyu as the villain because he was Namjoon’s enemy. But others saw Sunggyu as the hero, because of his sacrifices and goals.

Bluntly, Dongwoo voiced, “Contrary to what you and your little friends want to think, Sunggyu wasn’t some power-hungry asshole. He wasn’t doing what he was for bragging rights, or recognition, or for a thrill of any kind. He didn’t even like what he was doing most of the time, even if he was good at it. He was doing what he was because of his sister, and because he was never going to let her be in a position like he was, and he was never going to let another older sibling, have to do what he did to survive.”

And on that level, unequivocally, Seokjin had found something in Sunggyu to respect.

“Gyu was,” Dongwoo said with finality, “someone I think could have cleaned up the neighborhood and made it a good place to live. Maybe you don’t think that. Maybe you’ll never think that. But I believe it, and that’s all I care about. Gyu was a hero to a lot of people, myself included, and he deserved better than a bullet to the brain by his own hand.”

After that, Seokjin couldn’t even look at Dongwoo. He couldn’t look at the sight of a man mourning the best friend he’d ever had. Not knowing the part he’d played in that death.

“Fuck,” Dongwoo said one more time, then he reached out for the mochi in front of him, and popped a whole piece in his mouth.

When Dongwoo had long since finished the mochi, Seokjin asked, “What happens now?”

“Huh?”

They were almost alone in the store now, and the manager was eying them like he was just waiting for them to leave so he could start cleaning up for the night.

Seokjin asked, “Is this the part where you let me walk away? Or is the part where you walk me into some alley and I don’t walk out, or is this the part where you take me to wherever you plan to hold me and use me as a bargaining chip.”

“Hey,” Dongwoo eased out, looking affronted. “I said this was a personal matter, not anything else.”

“And I only have your word for that,” Seokjin replied.

Dongwoo got up then, as if to prove a point. He gave Seokjin a pointed look and said, “After I walk out that door, get in the car, and leave, everything goes back to normal. I mean it when I say I like you, Doctor Kim, but business is business and I will kill you if I have to.”

“Comforting,” Seokjin said dryly.

“But for right now?” Dongwoo said. “Right now you have nothing to worry about.”

Seokjin hardly believed him.

“Stay inside where it’s dry, okay?” Dongwoo asked, clearly prepping to go out in the rain. “One of my guys just left a tip with one of yours about your location. Someone should be here to get you shortly.”

Before Seokjin could say anything else to Dongwoo, the man was rushing out of the store and towards the car. He’d barely gotten in it before it took off, and then like he’d never been there, Dongwoo was gone.

What had just happened? Seokjin was totally at a loss. Had he really just been kidnapped by Dongwoo so they could eat ice cream in a rainstorm, and talk about Sunggyu’s death? How was that a thing?

“You okay?” the manager asked, coming by the start clearing the dishes. He seemed to be the only worker left in the store, and it was then that Seokjin realized he was the only customer. “Your friend just ran out of here like the police were after him.”

“Not the cops,” Seokjin said absently. “Maybe a ghost.”

Obviously fishing for information, the manager asked, “Are you finishing up here? Or can I get you something else?”

“I’m done,” Seokjin assured. “My ride should be here any moment now. I promise.”

Looking relieved, the manager took the last of the dishes and hurried to the back of the store.

Left in peace for the time being, Seokjin scooted a little closer to the window and gazed out. The rain was coming down so hard visibility was extremely low, and Seokjin almost wished no one was coming to get him. Dongwoo hadn’t taken his phone or his wallet, and Seokjin could afford a taxi ride back into Seoul. That seemed better than someone he cared about risking the weather outside just to come get him.

But all of those thoughts were laid to the side the moment he saw his own car come screeching to a stop in the parking lot. The car was parked considerably bad, and illegally, over two—nearly three spots. Yet none of that mattered the second Seokjin saw Jungkook get out of the driver’s seat.

Seokjin met Jungkook at the door to the eatery, and he had a slopping wet brother in his arms just after that.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook demanded in a breathless way. His bangs were plastered to his forehead and he looked feverish with worry, but he was healthy and safe and Seokjin was not going to be picky over anything else.

“I’m fine,” Seokjin said. He clutched Jungkook to him, thankful he was okay. “I promise, Jungkook. I’m okay.”

Jungkook seemed to only hold tighter to him, and Seokjin didn’t try to budge a bit. He was content to just stand there, for as long as the both of them needed, and wait.


	34. Chapter Thirty-Four

The clock across the room said it was nearly one in the morning. The light in the room was low, but Seokjin could still make out the time easily. And he would have expected to feel tired in any other instance, because one was far past the time he liked to go to bed. But given what had just happened, he didn’t think he could sleep a wink.

Plus, he was content where he was, sitting in the safety of his living room, surrounded by people he loved and cared for, with his brother in particular stretched out on the sofa.

Jungkook’s head as pillowed in Seokjin’s lap in a lazy way, and Seokjin had taken to running his fingers through Jungkook’s hair. Jungkook definitely wasn’t asleep, despite how still he was, and Seokjin liked the brief interlude that was happening between them before Namjoon arrived.

“You can’t say that just because I’m your brother,” Jungkook said softly, pushing his head a little into Seokjin’s fingers. “I told you that already.”

“I can say whatever I want to say,” Seokjin told him fondly.

Jungkook requested, “Just tell me the truth.”

There was so much calmness in the room at the moment, it was almost a little terrifying. Jungkook was still like the dead, and across the room, Hoseok as sitting just as motionless in the big recliner. Taehyung, only a little worse for wear, and now all bandaged up, was pressed to his side, squishing the two of them into one seat, and Hoseok was hanging onto him like he expected Taehyung to vanish.

Seokjin understood the worry.

Taehyung shifted a little and Seokjin saw the wince on his face.

It was enough for Seokjin to call out to him quietly, “I really wish you would take a painkiller, Taehyung. It’s not some defeat, and I know you’re in pain.”

“I’m fine,” Taehyung said somberly, like he’d been sounding for the entire time they’d been reunited, and pushed further into Hoseok’s side.

Seokjin had half expected Hoseok to be on his side, and to try and nudge Taehyung towards the simple painkillers that Seokjin wanted to give him. But very quickly Seokjin had realized the odd shift of dynamic between the two of them, maybe the three of them. Hoseok didn’t seem to be in any rush to force Taehyung into anything, even for his own good. And he’d barely spoken to Seokjin, too.

Was something broken between them?

It felt like it, and Seokjin would have given anything to get a peek into the thoughts going through Taehyung’s mind.

“Jin?” Jungkook’s head leaned back as he looked up at Seokjin.

Returning to their conversation, Seokjin said, “I’m absolutely telling you the truth. I’m not just sugar coating it because you’re my brother. I saw a lot of exhibits and demonstrations at the open house, and I think yours was the best by far.”

Jungkook frowned. “See, I want to believe you because you’re not a liar, but some of my classmates had some really kickass stuff to show.”

Seokjin nodded a little. “I agree. Overall everything was very impressive. But yours was the only project I saw that melded mediums.”

“What’s that mean?”

Seokjin brushed back Jungkook’s bangs, silently glad his hair had grown so long. Jungkook liked to sheer most of his hair off every couple of months, and complained all the time about how unruly his hair could be to tame. But Seokjin loved it long. He loved it long when they had these kinds of moments, and Seokjin could put his fingers through the hair, and Jungkook could be soothed by the motions.

Plus, Jungkook always looked younger with longer hair, and a part of Seokjin wanted to keep Jungkook looking as young as possible, for as long as he could.

“I mean,” Seokjin clarified, “you blended the arts together. You took music and blended it with dance. Those are mediums that often complement each other, and definitely benefit each other, but they’re not necessarily easy to blend. And that’s on top of your taking something artistic, like writing lyrics, and contrasting that against something more mathematical, like writing music. Consider, like I am, how impressive it is that you blended the arts with each other, and then the arts with mathematics.”

“You make it sound so impressive,” Jungkook said in a deferential way.

“Because it is.” Seokjin tapped Jungkook’s head. “I tell you all the time how smart you are. You always seem more content to let people thing you’re dumb, but in fact you’re only lazy.”

A grin split on Jungkook’s face. “Thanks for that backhanded compliment.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “You know I’m not saying that to be cruel. It is the truth. You’ve always been more interested in doing the things you want, more than the things you’re expected to. And you get distracted easily. When you’re given a task, if it isn’t something you wanted to do, you can be lazy about it. You never put in more effort to something than necessary, if your heart isn’t in it.”

Jungkook hummed a little, the vibrations trailing up all the way to Seokjin’s hand. He observed, “I go to school with a lot of smart people.”

“Then you’re in good company.”

Seokjin scratched his nails soothingly into Jungkook’s scalp, and said, “But tonight, at your school, I saw you put your whole self into a project. For the first time, I saw you at your peek potential, and the results speak for themselves.”

Jungkook fell quiet for a moment, clearly thinking about something, and then asked in a timid way, “Do you think dad would have been proud of me tonight?”

“Oh, Jungkook.” Seokjin wanted to warp him up in a tight hug. And just for a moment, he hated how their father continued to haunt them from the grave. The man wasn’t even alive anymore, and he was still doing damage to them. It didn’t matter that he’d tried to rectify his mistakes in the end. What mattered was that Jungkook still harbored insecurities, and it was because of their father.

“I just mean,” Jungkook started.

Seokjin cut him off, “I can tell you, with absolute certainty, that he would have been very proud.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook said, sounding raw. “I don’t know.”

“I do know,” Seokjin said a bit loudly, startling Taehyung further into Hoseok’s side. Seokjin threw Hoseok an apologetic look. “I do know, Jungkook.”

“Come on, Jin,” Jungkook said. “You know dad never supported the idea of me going to school for music.”

Seokjin corrected, “Because dad could never see what kind of benefit that focus of study would have for you. He looked at you, and looked at me, and saw definition of his success. Jungkook, we’ve been over this before, but even if he went about it in a damning way, he always tried his best to push us towards what he considered a bar of success. And for him, there was no success in you studying music, which meant he couldn’t die knowing that you’d be able to take care of and provide for yourself. He pushed you because he knew for a long time he was fighting a battle that he couldn’t win, or was unlikely to, and he was scared for what our future might be.”

Laying on the sofa, Jungkook turned on his side and curled towards Seokjin.

“But I think you also never showed him before what you showed me tonight.”

Jungkook prompted, “That I’m a terrible singer?”

“You never showed him passion for anything,” Seokjin corrected, and added in quickly, “and you’re not that bad of a singer, actually.”

“Better than you,” Jungkook teased.

Seokjin ignored him and said, “You never showed dad you had a passion for anything, other than getting out from under his thumb. You never took a stand behind anything you wanted, because you were too busy trying to do the opposite of whatever dad wanted.”

Jungkook was watching him so earnestly, that Seokjin bent to kiss his forehead.

“If dad had come tonight,” Seokjin told him unequivocally, “he would have seen, for the first time ever, what you look like when you’re doing something you love. And you know dad, maybe he wouldn’t have liked it. Maybe he would have been capable of liking it. But I think he finally would have understood, and he would have respected your choices a whole lot more.”

Jungkook’s face scrunched up a little, and then he was clenching his eyes closed, likely to stop any tears from escaping.

“In the end,” Seokjin said quietly, not even minding that Hoseok and Taehyung were in the room, because it barely felt like they were there, “dad just didn’t understand you. He absolutely bribed you into going to college with those music classes, because I know he hoped that I’d be able to wrangle you into more mathematics and science classes. He never got to see what made you passionate, or gave you drive and motivation. But he also didn’t need to. Because he loved you, and that’s all that mattered in the end.”

“Jin,” Jungkook squeaked out, wetness on his cheeks now.

“He loved you so much,” Seokjin said, smoothing out the wrinkles on Jungkook’s face. “You were his baby, and he was always more protective over you than he let you know. He worried more about you than you’ll understand until you’re a father. And no matter how little he understood you, nothing mattered except how much he loved you. He made mistakes. He wasn’t a good father in a lot of ways. But he atoned in the end. He did his best along the way. And he loved you.”

Jungkook’s arms went around Seokjin’s middle, and he held Jungkook as he shook.

“I miss him,” Jungkook said in a muffled way.

“I do, too,” Seokjin admitted. Especially the version of himself that their father had become in the end. Because in the end, their father had really come around. He’d still been an ornery, stubborn, overly critical man, but he’d soften a little. He’d cared about Jungkook’s happiness, and wanted to spend time with Seokjin just for the sake of enjoying each other’s company. And what had mattered most was making himself clear on the intentions of his actions over the years.

“You really think he would have been proud?”

“I do,” Seokjin said honestly. “He only wanted to see you excel in something, and obtain excellence. In the end, I don’t think he cared what it was, he just wanted to see something.”

After that, Jungkook, in a content way, drifted a little. Seokjin truly hoped he’d fall asleep at some point. Jungkook needed to rest, after getting so worked up.

But contrary to what Seokjin had hoped for, Jungkook was still very much awake when Namjoon arrived with Yoongi and Jimin.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asked, taking long strides across the room to reach his side.

When he got to him, Seokjin could tell Namjoon wanted to sweep him up in a hug, but Jungkook stubbornly wasn’t moving from his spot, and Namjoon steadied himself at that. Seokjin could see the way Namjoon was taking steady breaths, fingers clenched into fists.

“I’m fine,” Seokjin said.

“You’re not fine,” Namjoon said snappishly. “You were kidnapped out of a parking lot, by a senior member of Infinite, and—”

“I had ice cream with him,” Seokjin finished.

Namjoon visibly swallowed back whatever he planned to say.

Unexpectedly, Namjoon spun to where Hoseok and Taehyung were. Since Namjoon had arrived Hoseok had gotten to his feet and had a look of resignation on his face. Taehyung hadn’t gotten up from the chair, and was visibly nursing his side.

Seokjin had patched him up when they’d first arrived at the apartment.  The knife that had been pressed into Taehyung hadn’t gone deep or wide enough to require stitches of any kind, but it wasn’t a mild wound. Seokjin wanted to keep a close eye on it, just in case an infection of any kind set in. Taehyung hardly seemed like he was going to take it easy, so that was a real worry.

“Is what you told me on the phone, true?” Namjoon asked Hoseok in a tone that Seokjin had never heard from him before, at least not directed at a member of his own gang. He’d spoken to Hoseok almost like he was an enemy.

And that was worrying above being confusing.

Seokjin looked between the two of them, not really understanding what was happening.

Taehyung and Hoseok had met Seokjin and Jungkook at the apartment half an hour earlier, but Seokjin had been told right from the start by his brother that Namjoon was aware of what was happening, and that Hoseok was the one keeping him abreast.

“Yes,” Hoseok said evenly.

Namjoon’s head turned back to Seokjin, concern and worry on his features.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Seokjin said again. “I promise you. I’ll tell you everything that happened, but as unbelievable as it may seem, I don’t think I was in any real trouble from the start. At least not this time.”

Namjoon said in disbelief, “I can’t imagine that.”

Seokjin beckoned, “Come sit down. Let me explain.”

“In a minute, Jin,” Namjoon said with love in his words.

But that gentleness was gone when Namjoon said to Hoseok, “Go out onto the balcony.”

Seokjin rarely saw Namjoon act like the gang leader he was, but there was a chill in the air now, and it came right from the way Namjoon was speaking, and heaviness of the look he was leveling at Hoseok.

Wordlessly, Hoseok gave a short nod and went. He was silent, the whole room was silent, as Hoseok open the door and exited.

“What’s going on?” Seokjin asked, nudging Jungkook to get off him. Seokjin stood and looked to where Taehyung was gnawing down on his bottom lip in worry. “Namjoon?”

“It’s fine, Jin,” Namjoon said, but nothing in his voice indicated it was. Namjoon turned to Yoongi and said, “Give us fifteen minutes, and get it lined up where he’s going.”

Taehyung made a soft, worried sound, that was barely audible.

“Excuse me?” Seokjin demanded, but Namjoon was already to the door then, and he stepped out on the balcony without another word to anyone.

“I’ve got to make a call,” Yoongi told Jimin, and then he was gone, too.

Seokjin had had enough. “Tell me what the hell is going on right now. I’ve had it tonight with people talking over my head, and making decisions for me. I’m done being confused.”

Jimin told him certainly, “You sound like you’re as fine as you claim you are.”

Seokjin scoffed, “I mean it when I say I literally had ice cream with Dongwoo.”

“How are you a real person?” Jimin asked, head tilting. “We thought you were getting tortured for information. But while we were getting beat up, you were having ice cream.”

“Getting beat up?” Seokjin felt light headed.

“Don’t freak out,” Jimin said quickly. “I mean we were throwing punches. No one important got beat up. At least not on our side.”

Seokjin had a million questions about what had happened that night on Namjoon’s side of things, but the matter with Hoseok and Namjoon was stealing all of his questions.

“What’s going on out there?” Seokjin asked, pointing to the balcony. The curtain was mostly drawn on the door, making it impossible for Seokjin to really see what was going on, but it was nothing that could be good. “Why did Namjoon look so … so mad at Hoseok?” Furious was the better word. Mad didn’t even begin to describe what Seokjin had felt coming from him.

“I need to get some air,” Taehyung said suddenly, and then he was pushing past them to go out the same door Yoongi had moments earlier.

“Jimin?” Seokjin pressed. He felt Jungkook stand next to him, looking just as expectant of an answer.

Jimin rolled back a little on his feet, and then offered, “If I had to guess, Rap Mon is out there right now ripping J-Hope a new asshole for what happened tonight.”

Seokjin sat abruptly, feeling his heart lurch, spots dancing in his eyes.

“Jin?” Jungkook called in an alarmed way. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Okay? Was he okay? No, He was most certainly not okay.

“He’s angry at Hoseok?” Seokjin refused to believe that was possible, given everything they’d just gone through. “How? Why?”

Jimin looked a little anxious now as he said, “I mean, Rap Mon didn’t say anything to me directly, but best guess? He’s probably completely pissed off that J-Hope let you get taken.”

“Let me?” Seokjin thundered.

“Was there when it happened?” Jimin tried. “Look, the bottom line is that J-Hope, like the rest of us, are supposed to run defense for you. To our leader, and probably to Bangtan as a whole because of that, you’ve got the ball. You’re MVP. If anything happens to you, we all fall apart. So how is Rap Mon supposed to react to the fact that you got snatched out from underneath his protection, but he and V were perfectly fine?”

“They were not perfectly fine,” Seokjin said, rage growing in him. “Taehyung nearly died tonight. He’s playing it off as fine right now, but I’m telling you right here and now, he nearly died. And just because Hoseok is acting like he’s put together, doesn’t mean he’s okay. He was humiliated tonight. The kind of humiliation that’s worse than any punch to the gut you could imagine. And that’s on top of having to witness the near death of someone he loves.”

“Jin,” Jungkook said, fingers catching at Seokjin’s wrist. “Of course tonight was terrible for everyone involved. But you gotta understand …”

Jimin cut in, “Rap Mon expects that at any time, any one of us will lay down on a wire for you.”

Shocked, Seokjin asked, “You’re telling me Hoseok should have let Taehyung die, to keep me from being taken for ice cream?”

There wasn’t a hint of playfulness on Jimin’s face as he said, “He had no way of knowing you were going for ice cream. So yes, he should have.”

“No,” Seokjin said firmly, and then he was marching to the balcony door.

Jungkook’s grip on his wrist had been snatched free, but Jungkook was stumbling after him in a panic, calling out, “Jin, you can’t go out there!”

“I can’t?” Seokjin demanded, voice sharp.

“That out there?” Jimin said, not having moved yet, “That’s nothing you need be a part of. I’m serous, Jin. That’s business out there. And you have no business in that business.”

Seokjin could tell right away that Jimin was trying to phrase his words carefully, and without any kind of insult, but it felt like he was being condescending.

And Jimin’s words, obviously unbeknownst to him, made Seokjin think of some of the things Dongwoo had said.

Seokjin replied, “You say it’s business, but it’s personal.”

“Jin,” Jungkook tried again, tugging on his recaptured wrist hard. “You can’t go out there. Not in the middle of what they’re talking about.”

Seokjin asked him bluntly, “Are you trying to stop me?”

Jungkook dropped his wrist right away, looking fearful as he shook his head.

“I didn’t think so,” Seokjin commented. He understood Jungkook’s position in all of it, and he wanted to avoid being nasty to his brother in any way. But no one was going to stop him from putting an end to the foolishness that was going on. No one.

He could tell he surprised Namjoon and Hoseok when he threw open the door and pushed out on to the balcony. They had similar looks of disbelief on their faces as Seokjin closed the door a little harder than he needed to, sending a clear message to Jungkook and Jimin not to follow him.

Namjoon’s shock, however, only seemed to last a moment. And then, in a quiet voice, he said firmly, “You should go back inside.”

“So you can talk about me?” Seokjin demanded.

“This isn’t about you, not really,” Namjoon replied, a steely look on his face. “This is Bangtan’s business, and it needs to be between members of Bangtan.” When Seokjin scoffed, Namjoon added, “I mean it Jin.”

Seokjin wasn’t one to be budged, however. He leaned back against the glass door, blocking any exit or entry, and held Namjoon’s gaze.

“I am not,” Seokjin said slowly, not loudly, or even forcefully, “going to go back inside. I’m going to stay right here until you want to talk to me about what happened tonight.”

Namjoon seemed a little confused, and pointed out, “I will talk to you later. But right now—”

“Right now,” Seokjin cut in, “you’re berating someone who doesn’t deserve it. You’re blaming someone, who shouldn’t be blamed.”

Hoseok had a look of disbelief and horror on his face that such a thing was happening.

Once more, not sounding at all like Seokjin’s boyfriend, Namjoon said with seriousness, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Jin. So I’m asking you nicely to excuse yourself from this conversation. This is a gang matter, and like you enjoy saying often, you’re not a member of this gang.”

Seokjin ignored all of that, pressing, “Why are you blaming Hoseok for not letting Taehyung die?”

“Keep your voice down,” Hoseok said in a reactionary way.

Seokjin wasn’t put off, and said, “I seriously doubt, unless Spiderman is hanging around and works for Infinite, that there’s any chance of what we’re saying behind overheard.” The apartment building that Seokjin and Namjoon lived in was a space with only half a dozen units, and theirs was the only one on the second story with the balcony facing away from the street. In fact, the appeal of the unit had been how isolated and private it was. That, coupled with the rainstorm that had come earlier, meant that windows were likely closed, and the windspeed around them would drown out any of their conversation.

Hoseok leaned back on the railing in a defeated away, and Seokjin wanted to hug him terribly. Hoseok looked beat down and exhausted. He looked like he needed to fall into bed and sleep for an eternity.

“Don’t tell me this is Bangtan’s business,” Seokjin warned. “This is my business, too. I’m the one at the focal point here. I’m the one causing the ripple effect. Don’t shut me out because you’re angry about what happened, or you don’t want me to hear you trying to make someone feel ashamed.”

“I’m not trying to shame J-Hope,” Namjoon bit back in almost a biter way. “But stop making light of what happened.”

“I got ice cream and talked,” Seokjin rumbled.

Namjoon seemed furious now. “You keep saying that, and you keep missing my point. It doesn’t matter what did happen. The only thing that matters is what could have happened. And they could have driven you right to the Han river, and dumped your body in there for someone to find tomorrow morning. For me to find tomorrow morning. That’s what this is about.”

Seokjin took several, deep breaths in through his nose, and then stepped to the side. He said to Hoseok, “Can you give us a few minutes?”

“We are not done talking,” Namjoon said firmly.

“Maybe not,” Seokjin agreed. “But you and I need to have that talk about tonight much sooner than anything you need to say to Hoseok right now.”

Hoseok was clearly split on what to do. It was clear he wanted more than anything in the world to get off that balcony, but he also didn’t look like he dared to go against anything Namjoon was saying.

Jin was absolutely certain Namjoon was going to fight him on the matter, so certain he would have put money on it.

But then Namjoon gave Hoseok a sharp nod, and fifteen seconds later they were alone on the balcony.

Seokjin moved to where Hoseok had been standing, next to Namjoon on the balcony, at the railing. He suddenly wasn’t sure where to start, but managed to get out, “How can you think, on any level, that it would be acceptable for someone to die for me?”

“Are you serious?” Namjoon laughed out right away, but it was a sad laugh of sorts.

“I’m deadly serious,” Seokjin replied. “Considering what happened tonight. What’s happened before. What could happen in the future.”

Namjoon gave him an odd look and said, “Jin, I’d burn the word for you. I’d sacrifice anyone for you.”

Reminded of his conversation with Dongwoo again, Seokjin said, “You didn’t sacrifice Sunggyu’s sister for me. You didn’t sacrifice that part of your soul.”

Namjoon leaned both of his arms up on the railing, the post rainstorm wind blowing through his hair a bit. “No. But I came close. And that situation was different anyway. That was a situation where I knew what Sunggyu planned to do with you. I didn’t know if he’d hurt you or not, but I knew he wouldn’t kill you. Not then. But tonight? Tonight you could have been dead before I even knew you were gone.”

“And that’s Hoseok’s fault?”

“Yes,” Namjoon said bluntly.

“How?” Seokjin asked, feeling desperate. “Tell me how.”

“Because,” Namjoon reached out suddenly for the hand of Seokjin’s that was up on the railing. His own fitted over it tightly. “Because I’m always upfront with the members of Bagntan when it comes to what I expect of them. I never keep them in the dark. They know what the rules are, and if they don’t agree, they can always walk. But if they’re going to stay, then they have to meet those expectations.”

Seokjin asked, “To die for me?”

Namjoon took a moment to pause before saying honestly, “If need be? Yes.”

Seokjin pulled his hand back, feeling even more sick now. “How can you say that? How can you think that someone else’s life is a fair trade for mine?”

The curtain to the backdoor was shut fully now, and Seokjin wondered if Hoseok had done that on his way back in. But he was only glad that there was no audience for what was being said now.

Namjoon stepped closer, despite the warning look Seokjin gave him.

“Listen to me,” Namjoon said, almost pleaded, and it was the tone of his voice, and the desperation of it, that made Seokjin let go of his anger.

When Namjoon reached for his hand again, Seokjin let him take it.

“Jin,” Namjoon said, rubbing the soft skin on the inside of Seokjin’s wrist. “You are everything to me. That’s why I tried to hide you for so long. Because I care about a lot of people, but you’re the only person I love. You’re the only person I’d let the world burn for. I know you know this isn’t healthy, but I’m so dependent on you and your happiness and your health, that without you, or if anything happened to you, I’d fall apart.”

So this came down to fear? Seokjin wasn’t sure yet.

“You think this is about one life for one life,” Namjoon repeated, “but it’s about one life for hundreds of lives, or maybe more than that. Because if anything happens to you, if you get hurt or die, then I’m done. I mean that, as dramatic as it sounds, I’m absolutely done. I started Bangtan for the neighborhood, but I’m only still going for you.”

“You can’t be,” Seokjin said back.

“I am,” Namjoon insisted. “Suga could take over, or J-Hope. Maybe even some combination of them with Jimin and V and Jungkook. But I’m still here, leading the charge, because I like the way you look at me when you see me doing this. I’m still here because I like the faith you have in me, and how you say you’re proud of me, and because you want to have kids someday, so I need to make sure it’s safe enough for that to happen.”

Seokjin used his other hand to reach up and hold onto Namjoon.

Namjoon continued, “But if something happens to you, I’m done. And everyone knows this. I’m not hiding it. You’ve been my only true weakness for a long time, and there was never a point in trying to hide it after a while. So if you go down, I go with you, and maybe Bangtan, too. At least to an extent maybe Bangtan. Who really knows. The point is, Bangtan needs to be stable right now, which means not testing the waters on what would happen with new leadership.”

Seokjin let himself cling tightly to Namjoon, and in a desperate way told Namjoon, “Hoseok was in an impossible position tonight. Dongwoo was very clear. Taehyung was going to bleed out in that parking lot if I didn’t go with him.”

“Hoseok shouldn’t have let you go,” Namjoon said, not budging on his instance. “Because Dongwoo could have gone back on his word. You could have ended up dead. Everything could have gone to shit, and then where would we be?”

Evenly, Seokjin said, “I can’t be okay with anyone giving their life for me. People have died for me, actually. Members of Bangtan have, and I wasn’t any more okay with it then, than I am now. The only difference is I didn’t know what kind of rule there was in place about this. I know now.”

“I don’t force anyone into this,” Namjoon repeated. “Anyone who has a problem with doing whatever it takes to keep you breathing, including falling on a sword, can walk. Members of Bangtan can always walk, at any time.”

“I think that’s bullshit,” Seokjin said with vulgarity, because there didn’t seem to be another appropriate word.

Namjoon shrugged “Think what you want. That’s the rule. If you want to be a member of Bangtan, you’d better be prepared to give your life any anytime, especially for the most important person in the world to me.”

His knees feeling weak, Seokjin let himself settle against Namjoon.

He thought back to hours earlier, in the parking lot. He thought back to the look that had been on Hoseok’s face.

“They made him beg,” Seokjin said softly, mouth near Namjoon’s ear. “Dongwoo made Hoseok beg, on his knees, like he was dirt.”

Namjoon pulled back then, and took Seokjin’s face in his hands. He said certainly, “Hoseok made an emotional choice tonight. Do you get that? He wasn’t thinking with his brain. He didn’t look at the situation and decide to give you up because it was a tactical move that would benefit the most people. He chose to hand you over to Dongwoo, and potentially facilitate your death, because he thought with his heart. He saved the person he loved, regardless of the situation.”

Seokjin watched Namjoon’s face carefully before he asked, “And that, more than anything else, is why you’re mad?”

Namjoon deflated a little, and he offered up, “Maybe I’m more pissed at myself than J-Hope.”

The anger was gone from Seokjin now, too. He wrapped his arms around Namjoon’s shoulders and asked, “Why?”

“Because I broke one of my own rules.”

Seokjin frowned. “More rules?”

Seokjin felt Namjoon hug him closer as he asked, “A couple months back we were talking about the pair of them, remember? I’ve always been pretty upfront that Suga and I weren’t exactly on board with V and J-Hope having the relationship they do, and both being important members of Bangtan. But did anyone else talk to you about it?”

Seokjin had to think way back, back to almost a year previous, before he found any kind of memory relating to the subject. But then there was a memory, one barely in more than pieces, of Taehyung commenting on some disagreement a while back about the relationship. It had been while Hoseok had been sick.

“Taehyung said something once,” Seokjin replied, “but he never really gave details. I just know you weren’t keen on it.”

Namjoon nodded. “Because even before you came around, and before I thought I could love someone as much as I love you, I thought there might be a situation where we could get screwed because of them. Because I if had to choose between you and anyone else on the planet, I’d choose you. No matter what it meant. And how could I expect any different from J-Hope? He loves V like I love you, so of course in a bad situation he’s going to pick the person he loves to save above all else.”

Seokjin argued, “Taehyung’s life was in imminent danger. I have no doubt in my mind he would have bled out from the position of the weapon at his side, before anyone could help him.”

“That’s my point,” Namjoon told him, one big hand resting at the small of Seokjin’s back. “The rule has always been to avoid putting the two of them into a situation like what happened tonight. There’s always got to be other people there who can balance out the situation, or take control if need be.”

“Jungkook couldn’t have saved that situation.” And Seokjin wasn’t going to stop being thankful Jungkook had been none the wiser of what was happening.

“Maybe not,” Namjoon said, “but the point is to have someone else there as a buffer. And preferably, not to have the two of them handling the same thing at the same time. It creates a potentially catastrophic situation otherwise. Like tonight could have been.”

The more Seokjin thought about it, the more he had to admit that Taehyung and Hoseok seemed to hardly ever work together. Seokjin had mostly chalked that up to them getting enough of each other at home and in their off time. Seokjin certainly loved Namjoon, but he didn’t want to work with him or spend all his time with the man.

“Do not blame Hoseok,” Seokjin said again. “Dongwoo made it seem like the situation was in his hands, but ultimately, it was in mine. I could have said no. I could have said no to Dongwoo, and Taehyung could have died for it. I knew getting in the car with Dongwoo could have meant my death, but I don’t care what you say about how much my life is worth.  A life is a life. And I’m a doctor. I can only save as many people as I can. But I’m going to try and save them all.”

Seokjin felt Namjoon smile against the skin at his neck.

“You know I hate how good your heart is, sometimes,” Namjoon mumbled. “How good you are.”

Seokjin countered, “Do you think I could love anyone without an equally good heart?”

Under the cloudy sky, with the moon and stars hidden, Seokjin let himself decompress from everything that had happened. From the mess at the university, to this matter with Hoseok, Seokjin released it all.

“You know I can’t change this policy,” Namjoon said, letting Seokjin go when he stepped back. “You really are the glue holding this all together. You don’t have to like it, but you should know, nothing you can ever possibly say to me, will ever change my mind. This policy stays, no matter what it costs me, so long as it isn’t you.”

Seokjin swallowed down a lump of anxiety in his throat and asked, “What happens to Hoseok now? Are you going to punish him?” Seokjin wasn’t sure what went for a punishment with Bangtan. For the most part, it was a highly effective gang that almost never had anyone step out of line.

“I’m mad at him,” Namjoon said, hardly sounding it now, “but give me some credit, Jin. J-Hope is my friend. He fucked up, but he didn’t ruin our friendship or make me want to banish him to toilet duty or something like that.”

“Hey,” Seokjin protested weakly, “I make interns change bedpans all the time, and it’s not a punishment.”

Namjoon cracked a smile, and that felt like a victory. Then he said, “First of all, V and J-Hope are never going to work together on anything ever again, unless absolutely necessary, least of all anything to do with you.”

Seokjin really couldn’t blame him for that.

“But right now,” Namjoon said, running a hand through his hair, “I need Hoseok on something important.”

In a telling way, Seokjin could see the stress lines practically etched onto Namjoon’s face, and he didn’t think his run in with Dongwoo that night had created even a fraction of them.

“What happened tonight?” Seokjin asked. “Dongwoo was only too happy to tell me that he was taking advantage of you and Suho being distracted. He knew about what you planned to do tonight.”

“I know,” Namjoon said tersely. “Because it was definitely a trap we walked into. I just don’t think Infinite expected us to bring the force that we did. We could have been in deep shit, Jin, if Suho wasn’t there backing us up.”

Seokjin let himself lean back on the balcony and caught a nice breeze. “How is that possible? How could they know you were coming and be waiting?”

“They shouldn’t have.”

If Infinite shouldn’t have known, then that meant …

“No,” Seokjin said, shaking his head.

Namjoon held with seriousness, “Right now, there’s no way of telling if the leak is on our end, or Suho’s, but it’s bad, Jin. Because none of the lower members knew anything about this until right before. The only people who knew, were inner circle members. And if we have a leak, it came from one of them.”

And they absolutely had a leak, it seemed.

Though there was no way it came from one of their own. Seokjin would trust Jimin and Jungkook and Taehyung and all the rest with his life. He constantly did. They’d all fought hard against Infinite. They’d all risked everything. There was no possible way one of them was a traitor.

“It has to be one of Suho’s,” Seokjin said.

Namjoon replied, “Suho swears it has to be one of mine. So who’s the liar and who’s the fool?” Namjoon only shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know, Jin I don’t know what’s going on right now, other than Infinite should be wiped off the planet by now, and they’re only continuing to get stronger. If they continue at this rate, getting the best of us time after time? You know where we’re going to end up.”

Firmly, Seokjin decided, “None of your most trusted men are traitors, and you’re not a fool. Suho’s not going to want to hear that, so don’t tell him. But use the fact that you know he has a traitor in his group, to your advantage.”

“How?” Namjoon asked.

“Start leaking information on purpose,” Seokjin said with a shrug. “Very deliberate information. And only to specific people at specific times. That’s the best, fastest way to root someone out.”

Namjoon seemed to be contemplating his words, and then asked, “And what do I do when I figure out which of Suho’s men is the traitor? How does that work to our advantage, other than driving a wedge between Bangtan and Exo, or maybe blowing our alliance to shreds?”

Seokjin was certainly no strategist, but he thought the best course of action was pretty evident to him.

Without preamble, he said, “You figure out who’s the traitor, you give Suho information that you control, and then you wait for him to set Infinite up without him knowing it. With me as bait.”

That same old fight from before was brewing, but Seokjin was never surer now that he could be the perfect bait.

“We have been over this before,” Namjoon said with a strain. “I’m not going to let you dangle yourself out there for Infinite to snatch up.”

“Yes you are,” Seokjin said confidently. “Because the kind of problem you have now is the kind of problem that could get me killed. It almost happened tonight.”

“That’s dirty, Jin.”

“Everything is always about control,” Seokjin reminded, pushing away from the railing and heading towards the door. “You should do whatever it takes to keep it. Including using all the resources at your disposal. It might be the difference between life and death.”

Seokjin headed inside after that, leaving Namjoon to stew on the balcony.

“You’re still breathing,” Jungkook said from where he’d been waiting anxiously.

“Seriously?” Seokjin asked. “You thought he’d kill me?” Hoseok wasn’t in the room, and there was no telling where he’d gone, but Jimin had gone to sit on the sofa and he was watching with interest.

“Maybe, because this is gang stuff,” Jungkook seemed to decide. Then he asked, “Is Rap Mon still breathing?”

Seokjin let himself laugh a little, but it turned into a yawn.

“You should go to bed,” Jimin suggested, seeming tired himself.

“Yeah,” Seokjin said slowly, looking back to Namjoon. The curtain had become partially pushed open when he’d entered the apartment, and Seokjin could just make out the line of Namjoon’s body out on the balcony. Namjoon was leaning over the balcony, looking at something in the distance. Thinking.

Of what he’d eventually decide however, Seokjin had no way of determining.

At least not yet.


	35. Chapter Thirty-Five

In the end, Seokjin couldn’t tell if Samuel had truly just wanted to have pizza on his final day at the clinic, or if he’d merely given into Jonghyun’s constant requests for the food because he could be easy going like that. Seokjin thought Samuel really liked to hide how much of a people pleaser he was, but there was no getting around how often Samuel complied, if only to make the people around him happy.

In any case, the staff room currently reeked of pizza, and there were boxes and boxes and boxes of it piled up on the table tops. For the next hour and half they were running a skeleton crew, with interns handling the patients and nurses rotating through in fifteen to twenty minute increments. But everyone else was back in the staff room, and Samuel was currently opening a present.

“I know we weren’t supposed to go too expensive,” Jonghyun mumbled to Seokjin, and it was his present Samuel was opening, “but … and don’t you dare hold this against me ever as leverage of any kind, I actually like the kid. So I wanted to get him something extra nice.”

“I’m not surprised, softie,” Seokjin said back, just in time before Samuel was holding up a pair of shoes that looked more like combat boots, and practically shouting how amazing he thought the present was.

“Thank you, thank you,” Samuel called over to Jonghyun. “They’re perfect. Exactly what I wanted!”

Curiously, Seokjin asked, “How’d you know what to get him?”

Jonghyun arched an eyebrow. “Don’t you pay attention to the kid at all? Sure, he toned down his look while he works here. He doesn’t wear the nail posh here anymore, or practically any of the eyeliner we saw on him that first day. Plus, I guess you could say he wears more conservative clothing. But the shoes? The shoes never changed from day one until now.”

Jonghyun was right. Seokjin never noticed anything of that sort with Samuel. Shoes were things that Seokjin tended not to notice at all. But if the boots that Samuel wore now, were the same as the first day he’d shown up at the clinic, maybe the present had been a no brainer for Jonghyun.

But an expensive one. Seokjin knew from the bag, exactly what store they’d come from.

Still, Jonghyun hadn’t been the only one to get a present for Samuel, either, though his was obviously the most expensive. But the nurses and receptionists had pooled their money for little tokes and trinkets, and both Krystal and Jessica had given Samuel an impressive amount of sweets—claiming that nothing he could find in California would compare to Seoul candy.

Seokjin had tried, naturally, to purchase Samuel a worthwhile, educational gift. But the moment Jungkook had seen him drifting towards the bookstore at the mall, he’d looped his arm through Seokjin’s, grinned in a grand way at him, and asked facetiously, “I thought you said you liked Samuel, Jin? How about you don’t torture him with a book about math or whatever.”

“That never gets funny,” Seokjin had replied flatly, but he’d let Jungkook tug him towards the electronics store instead.

Samuel could thank Jungkook very much for the new smart watch he had wrapped around his wrist already. But Seokjin had to begrudgingly accept that Jungkook, who was far closer to Samuel in age than Seokjin was, probably knew best when it came to buying cool presents for teenagers.

All in all, the lunch party they were throwing for Samuel was turning out nicely.  Seokjin always appreciated a moment to get the employees together and spend time with the group as a whole, which didn’t happen often enough. But he especially liked that they got to celebrate having Samuel as an employee.

Seokjin had been willing to take a chance on Samuel from the beginning. He’d had a good feeling about the kid from the start. But it was nice to be validated by the work Samuel had put in, and the friendships that had grown up around him.

“Okay,” Samuel declared. “You guys are awesome. The pizza and soda was amazing. But I know that’s cake over there, and I’m going to lunge for it if necessary.”

“Actually,” Raina said, pulling a second cake from the refrigerator across the room, “we got you two. No one here could remember if you had a sweet tooth or not, so we got you a regular cake, loaded up with sugar, and a slightly healthier one with fruit on it.”

Samuel vowed, looking around at all of them, “If you actually want me to leave here at the end of the day, you’re going to have to carry me out the front door, because there’s no way I’m going willingly at this point.”

Hongbin passed by him and said, “Why do you think we’re doing this for you? We don’t actually want you to go.”

Seokjin hadn’t heard anything back from Yunho about what he’d proposed almost a week earlier. He hadn’t followed up with Yunho because he hadn’t wanted to be pushy, but he’d been thinking about it certainly. And as the days had dwindled down, he’d started to lose hope.

It was nearly all gone now. Seokjin fully believed Samuel would have said something about being able to stay if it was going to happen, so Seokjin was very thankful he’d waited to tell Samuel about the effort he’d made. He could only imagine the look of disappointment that would be on his face now.

Seokjin much preferred the sheer joy on Samuel’s face due to the party. Because maybe Samuel was leaving, and maybe it wasn’t what he wanted. But for the moment, Samuel was surrounded by people who liked him, and had chosen to be there for the lunch gathering. Seokjin hadn’t made it mandatory, but everyone who could come, had. And Samuel knew that.

“Having a piece?” Eunwoo asked when the cake was making its round. He was holding up the two options for Seokjin to choose from. Behind him Moonbin was less than subtly trying to take one piece of each cake for himself.

Seokjin heard Moonbin defend to Lizzy who’d caught him, “It’s one for me and one for Eunwoo!”

Eunwoo must have heard him too, because he leaned towards Seokjin with a grin and said, “I’m letting him tell people that because I don’t mind.”

Seokjin took the offered piece of cake with the fruit piled up on it, and asked, “You’re not going to have a piece? There’s plenty to go around, I promise, even if Moonbin wants to have more than a single peace.”

“Cake’s not really my thing,” Eunwoo said casually. “I prefer savory foods. But Binnie? He’s a bottomless pit. He’s a human waste disposal. Between him and our friend Rocky, I’ve never seen a person eat so much.” Eunwoo shrugged. “All his numbers look fine, he’s in near perfect physical condition, and he just happens to have a fast metabolism. So, he eats a lot. All the time.”

“A human waste disposal,” Seokjin parroted back. “I have one of those in my life. My brother, Jungkook.”

Eunwoo nodded. “I’ve seen him a couple of times.”

“Come out to eat with us some time,” Seokjin offered. “My treat. I’ll show you what a bottomless pit he is. He’s actually been barred from certain restaurants before.”

Eunwoo edged, “So has Binnie. I think his own mother has given up trying feed him. I don’t know how I manage. Luck, maybe.”

After a moment, Seokjin said, “Well, you know what we have to do, right?”

Eunwoo, who was wicked smart and quick as a whip, replied, “You name the date and the place, and we’ll pit the two of them against each other.” Eunwoo laughed, “Of course we’ll have to find some place that’ll let the both of them in. I’m convinced half the places in Seoul have Binnie’s picture up on the wall as a warning.”

Even though their conversation was about nothing special, and not particularly long, Seokjin was enjoying talking to Eunwoo. Of all the doctors that worked at the clinic, Seokjin saw the least of Eunwoo. That was, naturally, because Eunwoo split his time between the clinic and another hospital in Seoul, but Seokjin was suddenly ashamed he had never made more of an effort to spend time with Eunwoo. Eunwoo was smart and charming and funny. He was certainly someone Seokjin could find himself enjoying hours of time with.

“Oh, I think I know a place.” Seokjin insisted, glad he’d foregone the third piece of pizza to leave room for cake. Because he’d switched to taking his medication at night, instead of in the day, he was finding that the side effect he’d most often experienced, nausea, had gone to the wayside. Now his appetite was bigger than it had ever been, and he’d even put on a couple of pounds.

Once he had his surgery, he could go on longer walks, the kind that went uphill, or he could go with Namjoon to the gym. Or Jungkook. Though Jungkook had threated to bench press him a couple of times over the past year. It seemed doubtful Jungkook could bench press that much weight, but Jungkook certainly wasn’t one to be underestimated.

The last thing Seokjin wanted was to actually end up bench pressed by his little brother. Still, maybe Jungkook actually knew what he was doing at the gym. His muscles said he did. And he could probably show Seokjin the best exercises to deal with his growing appetite.

“You do?” Eunwoo asked.

Samuel was raving about the cake being the best thing he’d ever eating in his life, when Seokjin told Eunwoo, “My boyfriend owns a noodle house that his grandmother passed down to him after she died. I think I can get us in the door.”

Eunwoo held out his hand. “My Binnie verses your brother.”

Seokjin met his hand and shook it hard. “May the hungriest man win. Or lose. I’m not sure.”

Eunwoo drifted off after that to give out more cake and meet back up with Moonbin, and Seokjin enjoyed just watching Samuel interact with the other people in the room. If the kid couldn’t stay in Seoul like he wanted to, Seokjin at least thought he deserved a proper sendoff he could think about fondly for months to come.

“Well,” Jonghyun announced, “look who we have here.”

Seokjin turned just in time to see the door open fully, and then Yunho was stepping in.

“What are you doing here?” Seokjin asked. He was more than happy to have Yunho, but confused by his appearance.

Samuel abandoned his friends and food in an instance, hurrying to Yunho’s side to say, “My flight doesn’t leave until much later tonight. I still have time. I still have a shift to finish.”

“He does,” Seokjin backed up, feeling a little on edge. He didn’t want Yunho to snatch Samuel away just yet. He didn’t think that was fair at all.

Jonghyun asked, “You just come here to hang out with us? I heard you were too busy these past couple days for that sort of thing.” Jonghyun was only teasing, but it didn’t mean his words were untrue. Seokjin knew Yunho was very busy at the moment, preparing to leave Seoul and not come back for a long time—possibly years.

“Hang out with you?” Yunho teased back. “I’d need to be paid for something like that.”

“Ha!” Jonghyun snapped back. “That’s not what you said that night at the bar.”

Yunho returned, “You couldn’t even remember your name that night.”

“You couldn’t either!”

Samuel cut in in a panicked way, “Yunho? Why are you here?”

Yunho was wearing a satchel over a shoulder, and he turned it around to face his front, saying, “I got my flight moved up to tonight, actually. I’m leaving for the airport in about an hour and a half. I’ve got my other bags in the car right now.”

“Seriously?” Jonghyun asked.

Samuel was pale, and Seokjin knew what he was thinking.

Yunho pressed ahead, “I wanted to make sure I brought this by.” He wasn’t speaking to Seokjin then, however. He was talking only to Samuel, and the volume in the room had gotten quiet as Yunho handed a thick packet to him.

“What’s this?” Samuel asked.

Seokjin breathed out, seeing the glossy picture on the top of the packet, “You did it, Yunho. You actually did it.”

Yunho shot Seokjin a grin, and then told Samuel, “A little birdy, one standing over there looking way too handsome to be a real person, told me you want to stay in Korea. At least for the next school year.  So you are officially enrolled in Seoul International High School and you start ten days from today.”

“No way,” Samuel said, stunned and shocked, his features lax. “No way.”

Yunho pulled him into a hug and said softly, “Doctor Kim really went out on a limb for you here. All I did was talk to a few people—including your parents, so call them and thank them for not only footing the bill for the upcoming school year, but also giving you permission to stay so far from home for so long.”

Seokjin could see the way Samuel was clinging tightly to Yunho.

Calmly, Yunho said, “You’ll stay with my parents, okay? And you’re going to work here at the clinic ever day after school, too. I hear you’re actually supposed to get paid now.”

“Are you being serious?” Samuel demanded, looking on the verge of tears. Samuel’s eyes jerked back to Seokjin. “Seriously I get to stay?”

Seokjin gave him a nod.

“Hey,” Yunho said sharply, tapping the packet for school he’d handed Samuel. “This is not joke. This school is no joke. You got in because of your arts background, but you have to pull your grades up. You have to work hard. School is different here in Korea. Grades are everything.”

“I will, I swear,” Samuel promised.

“And you better help your Auntie and Uncle with whatever they need at the house. And be a good worker. And—”

“Yunho.” Samuel hugged the packet to his chest and said firmly, “I promise you, I’m going to make you proud.”

“Okay then.” Yunho nodded. “I’ll be checking in on you. Don’t make me fly back for any reason.”

Jonghyun offered, “You want to stay a couple minutes for some cake?”

Yunho perked a little. “Cake? What kind of cake?”

“Come on,” Seokjin beckoned. “There’s two kinds to choose from.”

Despite Yunho claiming to be in a hurry, it didn’t go unnoticed by Seokjin that he stayed for a piece of pizza, a cola, and a hefty slice of cake. But it was good to keep him for as long as possible. Some of the staff had started only weeks or months after the clinic had opened, and they’d known Yunho a very long time. Watching Yunho spend time with them was enjoyable.

But eventually Yunho did leave, accepting a strong hug from Samuel. Yunho promised, “I’ll come back as soon as I can, and this clinic better still be standing when I do.”

“You act like you don’t trust us,” Jonghyun said.

“I guess I should,” Yunho said with a teasing shrug. “You’re a dad now, so you’ve got some experience at keeping important things alive.”

Seokjin didn’t know if Jonghyun was preening more from the compliment to Yebin or the clinic.

“You come back any time,” Seokjin said, walking him out of the break room and to the front of the clinic. “I’m serious. To visit. To work. Whatever. Come back if you can.”

Yunho insisted, “My parents would kill me if I stayed away for more than a couple years, so you’ll see me before then. Maybe even for Christmas next year.  They were mad I didn’t come home for it last year.”

“Christmas with family is what makes it matter,” Seokjin agreed, thinking of the last Christmas he’d spent with his father. His father’s health had been fragile at best, and Namjoon had spent the entire holiday walking on eggshells, still convinced Seokjin’s father was going to drop him off a bridge somewhere. But it had been the best time of Seokjin’s life. He’d had all the people he loved in one place, and he’d made every moment count.

Before Yunho could exit out into the heat, he gave Seokjin a firm hug. He told Seokjin in no uncertain terms, “You better take good care of my cousin, Jin. His parents were not comfortable with the idea of him staying here, but I talked them into it. Still, more than that, Samuel might want to stay here, but he’s not familiar with Korea. And he is a teenager, so he’s naturally prone to getting into trouble. You’re not his father. You’re not his brother. You’re just his boss. But if you can, take good care of him. Look after him. He’ll need it.”

Seokjin hugged him back quickly, ignoring anyone who might be watching. He promised, “I promise I won’t let anything happen to him.”

“Then I’m relieved.” Yunho gave him a final wave, and headed out to his car.

There was a good deal of time blocked off on the day’s schedule for the now … staying party … before Seokjin planned to take any walk-ins, so he headed back to the room where everyone was still gathered.

He’d barely gotten through the door before Samuel was there, with earnest eyes, asking, “Did you really do all this for me, Doctor Kim?” He seemed so startled and in disbelief that his Korean was choppy and almost childish.

Samuel was definitely going to need to take a Korean language class over the coming year, if only the polish up the language that Seokjin was sure he’d just picked up from his mother.

“I did,” Seokjin revealed. “You told me you wanted to stay.”

“I did—I do! But I didn’t think…”

“I didn’t do any of the grunt work,” Seokjin said with certainty. “All I did was talk to your cousin and give him some suggestions for how we could keep you in Korea. He’s the one who contacted your parents, and the school, and had to talk his own parents into keeping you for the year. So if you have a lot of people to thank, I’m not sure I’m one of them.”

Samuel absolutely seemed to disagree, because he threw himself forward to hug Seokjin. It was an awkward thing for a few seconds, if only because Samuel was so thin and boney compared to most of the people who hugged him. But Samuel had grown on him exponentially, and hugging him back wasn’t a chore.

Jonghyun called out, “Hey, kid! If you’re gonna stay here you have to be less American!”

Samuel released Seokjin and asked, “You think Americans hug all the time?”

Jonghyun replied, “They hug more than Koreans.”

“That is not true and you know it,” Seokjin defended, an arm around Samuel. “If you’ve ever been to a bath house with a group of middle-aged men, you’d really know that’s not the truth.”

Jonghyun rolled his eyes.

Once more, Samuel told Seokjin, “Thank you for this.”

Seokjin breathed out, “People deserve happiness. I think people spend too much time thinking about what makes them upset, rather than what makes them happy. So you need to take this opportunity to be happy.”

“I will. And I’ll study hard.”

Seokjin believed that Samuel was like Jungkook in some ways, and that an application of effort was all that was needed for at least acceptable marks.

“Yunho is right,” Seokjin reminded. “You will have to work hard. You’re going to an international school, so you’ll get a little extra leeway, but grades are important here in Korea. You’ll need to study more than you’re used to studying.” Before Samuel could promise again that he would, and Seokjin saw it coming, Seokjin interjected, “We’re going to hold you to the same standard here that we do any of the other interns who are still in school. High school or college it doesn’t matter, you have to maintain your grades, or you’re out of here.”

Samuel paused, eyes wide.

“These past few months have been a favor to your cousin, so you were a special case. But if we’re going to keep you on, and pay you, you have to maintain your grades. That’s the deal. No grades, no clinic.”

“Um, okay,” Samuel said, sounding far less confident now.

“Don’t worry,” Seokjin laughed, “Korea is filled to the brim with cram schools and tutors, and programs to keep you competitive with your peers. And if you bring your school work with you here, you’ll have no less than a dozen people who can probably help you.”

“Thanks,” Samuel said. There was so much weight in that single word, that Seokjin knew everything he meant from it.

Things went back to normal at the clinic after the lunch break, but Seokjin could say confidently that the mood was improved. It certainly hadn’t been low before, but the staff seemed happier overall, and had more energy, and were even more positive.

Seokjin considered that they should have pizza parties more frequently on Fridays. Because productivity seemed to be rising, and that was something Seokjin could get behind.

Seokjin had started early that day, earlier than the afternoon to closing shifts he’d been working lately, so he got to leave just after the sun went down. And that was nice because he had plans to meet up with some members of Bangtan at the Noodle House.

But he’d gotten off early enough that he had time for a shower, and that sounded amazing.

He wasn’t really surprised that there was someone waiting to pick him up, considering what had happened with Dongwoo. But he was surprised to find it was Yoongi of all people. All the members of Bangtan had rotated the sort to thing with Seokjin in the past except for Yoongi, mostly, Seokjin assumed, because he was better suited for something needing a heavy hand. Or maybe Yoongi just didn’t like playing chauffer.

“I am surprised,” Seokjin said when he approached Yoongi. Yoongi had been sitting in his car, with the windows down, flipping through a magazine as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Or like the summer heat didn’t bother him in the least.

“Why is that?” Yoongi asked, looking at him through sunglass covered eyes.

“I just assumed,” Seokjin told him, “that you were too busy for this sort of thing?”

“What sort of thing is that?”

Seokjin ignored that question and asked, “Was Jimin too busy to pick me up?”

Yoongi nodded to the passenger seat of the perfectly normal looking blue sedan, and said, “Get in already. I hear you have plans tonight.”

“Not with my boyfriend,” Seokjin said with a grin when he did get in. “But if you could swing that, it would be great.”

Yoongi gave him a rare ghost of a smile and provided, “If I could drag him away from the pile of stress he’s been diving into like it’s a swimming pool, I would.”

“Nice to know.”

Yoongi started the car and turned on the air conditioner, but that was probably more for Seokjin’s benefit than Yoongi’s own. Yoongi was far too pragmatic for something like an air conditioner. Seokjin had discovered that about him over the amount of time they’d known each other. Yoongi wasn’t bothered by a lot of things, and he hated being wasteful. So the air was definitely for Seokjin, which he appreciated.

“I came to get you,” Yoongi said once they’d merged into traffic in the direction of Seokjin’s apartment, “because we need to talk about something important.”

“Personal or business?” Seokjin asked.

“Maybe both,” Yoongi said with a sigh.

“Both?”

Yoongi asked, “What I hear is that you want to dangle yourself out there like bait. Is that true?”

“I told Namjoon,” Seokjin said in a thorough way, “that we only have two options here. Either we can wait for Hoya and Infinite to come to us, which means we lose most if not all of the control over what happens when that occurs. Or we can take control ourselves, and lay a perfect trap, and bring them to us under our conditions.”

“And you’re so sure Hoya is coming to you?” Yoongi wanted to know.

“I’d bet my life on it,” Seokjin said, not mincing words. “Infinite is coming, period. You know that. You’ve experienced several clashes with them over the last month alone. They were supposed to be decimated, but they keep getting an upper hand every time you meet. On top of that, you’d be crazy not to think Hoya has it out for me. I’m the one responsible for getting him arrested. I got the best of him, and something about that tells me it’s not going to sit well with him. No doubt he wants all of Bangtan to burn, but I think he’ll start with me. I’ve already been targeted.”

Yoongi drove in silence for a bit before saying, “Rap Mon thinks you’re crazy. He told me about this idea of yours because he said he made a promise to you, but he thinks you’re crazy for suggesting it, and that it’s just a bad plan overall.”

Seokjin said knowingly, “He’s letting his heart get in the way of his head.”

Yoongi responded, “When you love someone, something like that is impossible to avoid.”

Seokjin didn’t disagree with that, but he said, “I know that there’s a rat somewhere. Namjoon told me, and we both agree it’s no one in Bangtan.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything, but he gave a strong nod.

“It’s not Jimin, or Taehyung, or Jungkook, or Hoseok.” Seokjin insisted, “It’s absolutely not. Which leaves Suho’s men to consider, and there are a lot of them.”

Yoongi snorted out, “Suho is not going to stand by and let anyone, even you, make that kind of accusation.”

“Even if it’s true?” Seokjin arched an eyebrow “From what Namjoon has said, the kind of information that’s getting leaked to Infinite is the kind of stuff only top members of each gang would know.”

“Even if it’s true,” Yoongi said emphatically. “Because a traitor in his midst would make Suho weak, and he can’t afford to be perceived as that. So yes, even if he knows it’s true, he’ll never admit to it, which would make the plan you’ve suggested to Rap Mon, about feeding information to select members, moot. Suho would never go along with that plan.”

Seokjin stopped to consider, “Does he need to know?”

Yoongi warned, “That’s a fine line you’re walking. That’s the kind of thing that could end an alliance.”

Seokjin wanted to tell Yoongi that if there was a traitor, and there certainly was, the alliance was almost surely done for. But instead he offered, “All I’m saying is that certain members of Bangtan work with certain members of Exo regularly. There are specific relationships at this point that have been built up. If Bangtan were to casually mention things to specific members of Exo, that could just conveniently expose someone.”

Yoongi glanced away from the road to shoot Seokjin a look.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi said. “But if you ever want to join Bangtan in an official way, you’ve got my vote.”

Seokjin pointed out, “You would have thought of this on your own.”

“Maybe,” Yoongi allowed. “Maybe not.”

Traffic was heavier than normal, but Seokjin attributed that to it being a Friday, and people rushing to leave work. Seokjin wasn’t bothered by the extra time it was taking to get home, however. He enjoyed the comfortable silence that he had going with Yoongi.

They rode most of the way in silence, but when they were half a dozen blocks away, Yoongi said, “If you want to use yourself as bait, after we work out who the traitor is, then I’ll back you on that. You’re smart and you’re capable, and you’ve proven in the past that you’re no damsel in distress. If we can control the situation, and have all the backup in the right place, we might be able to pull off the biggest set up we could possibly conceive.”

Seokjin told him, “I’m sensing a pretty big but here.”

Yoongi nodded. “But I’m not the leader of Bangtan. I’m not the one who makes the final call. And if you want this to happen, if it’s ever going to have a chance of happening, you know who you have to convince.”

Seokjin let his head thump back on the headrest of Yoongi’s car. “You know that’s asking the impossible.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Yoongi said without pause. “He makes the call, so you have to convince him. And considering that he says you’re his soulmate, I think your chances of convincing him are next to impossible.”

Seokjin wondered what he would have thought if their position had been reversed. If it had been a matter of putting Namjoon’s life in danger, would he be able to make that kind of call?

“Yoongi,” Seokjin posed, “what if I was your sister?”

Before Seokjin could say more, Yoongi offered, “Then I’d still have a pretty sister, but I’d probably have a lot of gray hair, too.”

Seokjin grinned at him. “You didn’t let me finish.”

Yoongi returned the grin. “I know.”

Seokjin liked the kinds of moments when he could be reminded that Yoongi was serious most of the time, but he had a sense of humor when he relaxed enough. Most people just never got close enough to Yoongi, or on good enough terms, to learn that about him.

“I mean,” Seokjin said, “what if you had to put your sister in a situation that would risk her life, but doing so would very likely wipe out the ongoing threat to it. And not just to her, but to yourself, all your friends, and the neighborhood. Could you do it?”

They crawled to a stop at a red light, and Yoongi’s hands tightened at the wheel as he said, “That’s not a good comparison. My sister is a kid. You’re an adult.”

“Then imagine she’s an adult.”

Yoongi’s eyes cut to Seokjin. “I have enough trouble dealing with her being twelve.”

“Yoongi,” Seokjin sighed out. “Imagine it’s someone you’re in love with, then. Imagine it’s someone you love like I love Namjoon. Or like Namjoon loves me. The most important person in the world to you.”

Yoongi stiffened, and for a moment, Seokjin didn’t know what he’d said wrong.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi said finally. “I want to think I’d say yes, but I was also the person who told Rap Mon to use Sunggyu’s sister against him.”

Seokjin blinked sharply at him. “You … did?”

“Or I suggest it was maybe time to use the information.” Yoongi looked ashamed, and that eased some of the shock Seokjin was feeling.

“Why?” Seokjin had to ask. “She’s just a little girl, and an innocent one at that.”

Yoongi eased off the brake as the light changed, and answered, “Because I knew Rap Mon wouldn’t hurt her if any kind of exchange happened. Because I wanted to end the conflict with Sunggyu before anyone else got killed. Because I wanted you back. Pick your poison. The point is, I was willing to use her, so I don’t know what that says about my morality. I don’t know if I could be that selfless and put my sister up there or anyone I loved. I want to think I could, but I don’t know, which is why I understand Rap Mon putting his foot down on this matter.”

“We do have to end this,” Seokjin said. “The longer it goes on, the more people are going to get hurt, or worse.”

Seokjin was certainly not advocating for violence, but he’d seen enough of Infinite to know that there was no middle ground with them. At least not now that Sunggyu was gone. Seokjin had learned a great deal about Sunggyu both during the time he’d been with him, and after, via Dongwoo. Maybe Sunggyu could have eventually been reasoned with. Maybe Sunggyu could have been talked down. But without him, there was only the pieces of Infinite stitching itself back together, fueled by blood thirst.

If something wasn’t done about Infinite they were going to encroach back into Seoul, and Bangtan might not even realize it was happening. And then they’d start picking people off one by one. Or burning things again.

“I’ll talk to Rap Mon,” Yoongi suggested. “I’ll tell him I support your idea, and that under the right circumstances, we can control the risk to you. But I don’t think I can be the one to talk him into it. That’s got to be you.”

Tapping his fingers softly against the arm rest, Seokjin asked, “Can you clear out some time on Sunday or Monday for Namjoon to have a bit of free time?”

“I’m not his secretary,” Yoongi laughed.

Seokjin shook his head. “I know you’re not. But if Namjoon can’t be somewhere, you’re the only person he really trusts to speak for him. So you have the most sway over who’s doing what and where.”

Most of the day’s traffic was gone when they pulled onto Seokjin’s street. The residential streets were fairly notorious for light traffic through the area, and that was one of the things Seokjin liked most about living in the area.

“Monday night?” Yoongi posed.

“I’ll make it work,” Seokjin promised. He considered, “I have to talk to him about something else, too. Something important.”

August first was coming up quickly, and considering the gang climate in the area, Seokjin couldn’t wait until the last moment to tell him. He’d wanted to wait until as close to the date as possible to spare Namjoon the worry he was sure to feel, but given what was coming up, that didn’t seem smart.

He had to trust that Namjoon could keep his head on straight until August, and not fuss too much.

“Important?” Yoongi asked with raised eyebrows.

“I’ll tell the rest of you soon enough,” Seokjin assured, pulling off his seatbelt when Yoongi parked in front of his apartment.

Quizzically, Yoongi asked, “About your heart?”

“How’d you know?” Seokjin asked, surprised.

Yoongi hit the unlock button for the car door and offered up, “You get the same look on your face whenever something has to do with your health. You okay?”

Genuinely, Seokjin liked that he could say, “I will be.” He’d been utterly resistant at first, more out of pride than anything else. He’d originally seen the surgery as giving in to weakness, or not being able to take care of himself. But now he saw it as a new lease on life, or a way to lengthen what time he had.

 And why shouldn’t he want every opportunity to have more time?

“Okay,” Yoongi said simply. “If that changes, tell me.”

Yoongi was such a softie. Seokjin loved it, just like he loved really digging down to Jimin’s real nature, which was less abrasive than he wanted people to think, and much more kind.

Seokjin told him, “Tell your sister I said hi. Oh, and starting in the fall we’re going to be offering basic first aid classes to anyone interested. Nothing too complicated, but enough to build critical skills. The minimum age requirement is fifteen to go solo, but if she’s got an adult who’s willing to take the class with her … say, an older brother, she’s in. It’s a two-week course and it’s free.”

“And you think my sister will be interested?”

“I think there was something very telling about the way she hovered around you when you were hurt,” Seokjin said. “She’s wasn’t frustrated with you being hurt, by the way. She was frustrated that she couldn’t do much to help. So a basic first aid class might make her feel better.”

Yoongi reached out to grab Seokjin’s sleeve to stop him from leaving as he said, “I don’t want this to be a foothold for my sister to have anything to do with Bangtan. Not now, not ever.”

Seokjin burst out laughing, “I really don’t think first aid is a gateway drug to a life of crime.”

Yoongi did not look amused as he said, “I mean, I don’t want my sister thinking that she can help out in any way. She’s going to go to school, and become an accountant or something boring like that, and make a good salary, and marry someone nice, and not ever have anything to do with Bangtan. No exceptions.”

Slowly, Seokjin reminded, “I can’t control what she chooses to do with her life, not any more than you can actually, but if she attends the class, I will make sure to reinforce that this is something someone should do for themselves, just to be prepared, and not for any future career aspirations.” Yoongi still looked quite upset at the idea of his sister being involved with Bangtan. “I promise.”

Yoongi let go of Seokjin’s sleeve. “In the fall?”

Seokjin nudged, “Take the class with her. It’s two weeks, for just a couple of hours every week, and it’ll be a good bonding experience for the both of you. You seem so worried she’ll grow up too fast, so take this time while she’s still a kid. Especially since your parents work a lot and she sees more of you, than them.”

Begrudgingly, but not as if it was the worst thing in the world he’d ever agreed to, Yoongi said, “Go ahead and put us down for the class.”

Seokjin opened his door, key in hand, and posed, “You might actually like it. And god knows with the messes you and the others get yourselves into, it might be very beneficial.”

“Ha-ha.”

Seokjin gave him a wave and then trekked his way up stairs, bypassing Namjoon’s men with casual greetings for them. He liked that he recognized who they were, and thought it was definitely going to be odd when the time came that they weren’t needed anymore.

Maybe Namjoon didn’t think that was a possibility, even in the distant future, but Seokjin certainly figured otherwise.

Something had to give, after all. Things couldn’t continue the way they were. Gangs couldn’t continue to push at each other and cause turmoil and conflict. There was going to come a time when there was no more room for that sort of thing, and no more territory to fight over.

And that wasn’t even counting the police. At least in Bangtan’s area, Seokjin’s father had been responsible, before he’d died, for rooting out most if not nearly all of the officers that had been on Infinite’s payroll. He hadn’t gotten them all, but he’d gotten enough to gut the force. Still, six months after that had happened, the police had bolstered their numbers back up, and were on the whole, much less dirty.

It wouldn’t be long before they were ready to take control of the streets back. Seokjin couldn’t speak for what was happening in any other gang’s territory, but Seokjin though the police could be ready sooner, rather than later. And that would be a nice thing.  Seokjin was truly looking forward to the day that Namjoon could stop putting his life on the line, and leave that to the police.

And all of that, as far as Seokjin was concerned, started with finishing the matter with Infinite. So Seokjin was going to talk Namjoon into setting up Infinite for a final bow out. And no matter what it took, he was going to convince him of its absolute necessity. Because Seokjin didn’t think any of them could get on with normal lives as long as Infinite lingered. And that was something Seokjin wanted more than anything else.

He was going to have his surgery, marry Namjoon, get the family he wanted, and live as long as possible, as happily as he could.

And he’d steamroll anyone who got in the way of that. Anyone. Infinite included.


	36. Chapter Thirty-Six

“Do you have any idea how old you’re making me feel?”

Seokjin was certainly joking when he told Hongbin as much, but there was some underlying truth to it. Hongbin was only a little over a half decade behind Seokjin in terms of being a practicing doctor. But Seokjin often felt older than he was because of a combination of things, the least of which was fast-tracking himself in medical school, and opening a clinic almost right out of his residency. Yet he and Hongbin weren’t so far apart.

Still, in the seven years that separated them, so much had changed. Seokjin did his best to keep up to date with all the emerging, new medical procedures. He attended lectures, and watched demonstrations. He stayed up hours and hours at night reading medical journals, and collaborated frequently with other doctors.

But sometimes the medical field moved like lightening.

 And now Seokjin was left feeling behind not for the first time.

“You’re not old at all,” Hongbin laughed as he got situated in front of his patient for that day’s surgery. “We’re still peers.”

Seokjin shook his head in exasperation. Seven years separated them, and Seokjin felt seven decades behind.

The clinic, for as precious as important to him as it was, felt like a dead weight in these instances. It was easy to get sucked into complacency at the clinic, and routine. Seokjin liked routine a lot. But routine and complacency meant no cutting-edge techniques, or innovation. Those were things Seokjin lived for, too.

He was starting to feel left behind at the clinic.

If he was working in a big hospital, or likely any hospital at all, he would have been on his toes all the time, constantly practicing to improve. He would have had access to all kinds of new tools for learning and methods to adapt himself with.

This wasn’t the first time he’d felt like he was losing touch with why he’d become a doctor to begin with, but it was the most recent. And also, the most jarring.

“You shouldn’t feel bad all about not knowing this method,” Hongbin stated, leveling up the main tool he’d be using that day. “As few as five years ago they were still teaching the tried and true method.”

Seokjin replied, “Scalpel and scoop.”

Hongbin pointed out, “Outside of progressive, often Western countries, it’s still the preferred method.”

Seokjin hadn’t thought twice when Hongbin’s name had gone up on the surgery board that morning for a simple tonsillectomy. It wasn’t the most common surgery anymore, not compared to the rates Seokjin had studied even before he’d been in medical school, but it wasn’t uncommon, either. And Seokjin had read the chart on the fifteen-year-old patient scheduled for the surgery that day. The tonsils had to come out before they became a serious concern.

Seokjin’s interest had only been piqued when Hongbin had mentioned he was going to be using a different method than the one Seokjin had studied and perfected in medical school.

“I love this thing,” He said to Seokjin now, hefting the tool up for him to see. It was simple enough looking, and not intimidating in the way Seokjin had expected after he’d done some quick reading about electrocautery.  And though he hadn’t been entirely unfamiliar with the process, he’d just never really implemented it himself, or had a reason to.

“So much you own your own?” Seokjin jested. At the head of the surgical table Eunwoo gave them a thumbs up, indicating that the patient was well and truly down for the count, and surgery could proceed.

“Trust me,” Hongbin assured, “this is the sort of surgical tool that once you use, you never want to go without again.”

Seokjin had learned the most pervasive method of removing tonsils his first three months into medical school. He was certain he could slice open the appropriate area, have the tonsils out, and close the wound up, within half an hour.

But he was almost overly excited to see Hongbin handle the tool which eliminated such a thing. The way he’d read, and how Hongbin had explained it, the electrical energy from the tool would both slice open the necessary tissue, and cauterize it afterwards, leading to far less blood loss, and a smoother go in terms of operating procedure.

Seokjin questioned, watching Hongbin rotate his wrist a bit before starting in, “What about the risks associated with this procedure?”

Seokjin, careful to not nudge the patient in any way, leaned in close for a perfect view of what Hongbin was doing in the patient’s mouth. His hand was steady and he reeked of confidence in every way a doctor ought to.

Hongbin’s eyes flickered up to Seokjin, and even behind his surgical mask, Seokjin could see the grin. “A little light reading you said earlier?”

“I skimmed,” Seokjin chuckled out. “And what I read about this technique definitely praises the efficiency of it and the lack of blood loss. But it notes that there’s an increased chance of damaging surrounding tissue because of the heat you’re generating, which means a longer recovery period. Or even a more painful one.”

Eunwoo, in a cheeky way, called over, “I’ve read that too.”

“You have not,” Hongbin tossed back at him, and they all had a good laugh. Hongbin elaborated, “I think those are very valid concerns. The doctor I learned this from made sure to highlight the chances of doing that sort of thing. But if you’ve got a steady hand, and you’re paying attention, that’s hardly likely to happen.”

Earnestly, and honestly, Seokjin admitted, “I wish they’d taught this when I was doing my residency.”

Hongbin hummed a little, going along in the surgery, and Seokjin watched carefully.

The first tonsil came out almost flawlessly, and Seokjin was definitely impressed. The nurse standing at Hongbin’s side caught the item as soon as it was removed, and set it to the side.

“See?” Hongbin asked, leaning back and taking a quick breather. “Easy as pie. A steady hand. That’s all you need.”

Seokjin could have performed the surgery just as well on his own, probably in just a bit longer of a time frame, but there was something almost magical about watching how a simple surgery had progressed in a few short years. Maybe if Seokjin had been working in a big hospital he still wouldn’t have been able to keep up with everything new emerging all at once. But he would have at least had a chance at it.

Hongbin gave Seokjin a serious look and asked, “You want to give it a try? Left tonsil still needs to come out. I’ll walk you through it.”

“I’m sure your patient would love us using her as a Guinea pig.”

Unperturbed, Hongbin insisted, “You’re the best doctor I know, better than anyone who taught me, and you have the steadiest hands I’ve ever seen. I’d put my life in your hands if I was the one on this table. Plus, using this is exactly the same as using a scalpel. Use the same technique you would with a scalpel, and be a doctor.”

The offer was certainly appealing. Seokjin wanted to know what it felt like to use electrocautery on something like a tonsillectomy. But good sense won out in the end. He didn’t want to make a mistake and put the clinic in a bad position.

“How about you do this one,” Seokjin posed, “let me read up a little bit more on this, and watch a few videos, and I’ll give it a go on the next one.”

“Fair enough,” Hongbin said easily.

The surgery only took a cool fifteen minutes more, and then there was an additional ten minutes dedicated to Hongbin doublechecking his work, and inviting Seokjin to ask questions and make comments.

It felt like a real learning opportunity. It felt like Seokjin was getting exposure to something important, and that there was something so critical about being able to participate in a learning experience in real time.

“I wasn’t the one doing the surgery,” Seokjin said after the patient had been moved up the recovery wing and he and Hongbin were standing side by side, washing their hand and arms once more. “But it still felt thrilling in a way.”

Hongbin gave an honest nod. “I feel that way all the time, whether I’m doing or just learning. But I think that’s what makes me a good doctor, if I’m able to say that. And you, too. Finding accomplishment and value in learning something new? That’s priceless.”

Seokjin dried his hands and insisted, “The next time a tonsillectomy comes across your plate like that again, put me down for assisting. And I want to give it a go.”

Tapping off the water in front of him, Hongbin said, “You know, I have a friend who works in New York and she was telling me about these big seminar workshops that are held there twice a year. There’s usually one in the fall, and one in the spring. They’re three or four weeks long, and very intensive—pretty pricey, too. But they condense a ton of information that’s probably new to most doctors, and they even have specialty classes for types of focus. My friend said she goes every year and learns more from those three or four weeks, than she does in the rest of the weeks in the year put together.”

Seokjin tried not to feel too excited, and said, “Once you’re out of residency, it’s impossible to curate knowledge at the rate our patients deserve.”

“I’m planning on going in the fall.” Hongbin gave him an easy wink. “Surprise. But that’s about nine months away, so I figure I have the time to prep for it. If you’re interested I’d love to have someone to attend with. It’s also a good place to make connections.”

Three to four weeks, nearly a month, was a long time to be away from the clinic. And it would be a long time to be away from Namjoon and Jungkook. But the chance to spend the time intensively studying emerging techniques and learn new information? That seemed too valuable to pass up. He supposed he’d have to find out how much it cost, and if he could work it into the budget somehow.

Unable to stop his thoughts from running away from him, Seokjin wondered if maybe he and Jonghyun could trade off on going. The workshop seminar was held twice a year, according to Hongbin. They couldn’t both go at the same time, under any circumstances, but they could maybe swing the both of them going at separate times.

Seokjin planned to have Joy look into that. She was getting more than competent with some of the technical matters of the clinic, including handling their funding and private donations appropriately. Seokjin had been warry to trust her with that, but he’d looked over her shoulder for long enough. If she could find it in the budget to send the both of them, she would.

“Thanks for helping today,” Hongbin said when they stepped out into the hallway that spanned the length of the second floor. “I would have been just fine without you in there, but it’s always nice to have a second set of eyes.”

“It’s nice to be invited by a colleague,” Seokjin returned. There was always the possibility or opportunity that competitiveness could emerge among doctors, or misplaced envy that could quickly transform into jealousy. Seokjin just thought he’d been lucky enough to select people to work at the clinic who were more interested in helping their patients, and each other, than competing with anyone.

Hongbin told him certainly, “We are that, Kim Seokjin. You’ve always treated me with respect, despite being older than me, and you have no idea how much that means to me. No matter who is teaching who, we’re peers, and this is the best place I could have ever ended up working.”

Seokjin laughed out, “Try thinking that the next time you get scheduled a double shift.”

“I’ll gladly take it,” Hongbin said. “Because I know what kind of people I’ll be helping, and more than that, I know what kind of people I’ll be working with.”

After that Hongbin was off to take a late lunch, and Seokjin wanted to check in on Jonghyun and Samuel.

They were still in Jonghyun’s office when Seokjin swung by, but it looked like Samuel was just then signing the last of the paperwork that would legally employ him at the clinic.

“No turning back now,” Seokjin said from the doorway.

“Don’t even think it,” Jonghyun interjected. “It was a pain in the ass to get all the paperwork straightened out. And make this legal.”

That wasn’t, the way Seokjin heard it, a lie at all. Yunho had gotten Samuel into the International School in something of a hail Mary move, but keeping Samuel in the country, oddly enough, had been a slightly more complicated thing.

Before showing up Sunday morning to sign the paperwork, Samuel had told them the night previous that he’d had to go down to the American embassy to work out the visa that would be extended to him for his stay. His mother was a Korean citizen, which was something that helped him greatly, but he’d still needed to fill out a ton of paperwork and pay the exorbitant fee to have everything expedited.

As of right now, he had a temporary visa to go to school and work, at least for the next one hundred and eighty days. But there was a good chance he’d have to actually leave the country for a short time when that was up, to reapply for something more permanent.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Seokjin had promised him, seeing the panic on Samuel’s face as the prospect that a visa might keep him out of the country he’d already had to jump through hurdles to remain in.

Jonghyun took back some papers Samuel had signed and asked Seokjin, “How did the surgery go? Tonsils was it? How exciting.”

Seokjin didn’t miss how dry Jonghyun’s voice had gone at the end.

In a reminding way, Seokjin said, “It wasn’t the diagnosis I was interested in, and you know that. It was the procedure Hongbin was implementing, and yes, it was very fascinating. Exciting, even.”

“I’ll call you the next time someone needs a colonoscopy. Those are riveting.”

Samuel frowned. “What’s a colonoscopy?”

Jonghyun laughed out, “You’re from L.A. and you don’t know what a colonoscopy is? I thought all your movie stars had those biweekly out there.”

In an oddly defensive way, Samuel declared, “I’m from Anaheim. Not L.A..”

“What’s the difference?” Jonghyun asked.

“Baseball,” Samuel responded, but that made no sense to Seokjin. Maybe it was a regional thing.

Jonghyun seemed to abandon that train of thought, too, and he called to Seokjin, “Put the kid down for the next one that comes through here. He’ll love it.”

Samuel shook his head. “Whatever it is, I don’t think I’ll like it. Not if you want me in there that badly. It’s probably something bad.”

“Not bad,” Seokjin laughed. “Just … not always for the faint of heart.”

Jonghyun tossed in Samuel’s direction, “It’s where we stick a camera up someone’s butt to screen for cancer.”

Samuel gave a visible lean back in his chair.

“So smooth,” Seokjin told Jonghyun.

Jonghyun looked absolutely proud as he said, “I’m totally practicing for that horrific moment when Yebin brings someone home for Key and I to meet. I want to have perfected the way to cause nightmares.”

Faintly, Samuel offered up, “I think you’re nearly there.”

Trying to smooth out the situation, Seokjin told the teen, “The patient is usually sedated, there’s no pain, and it really is the best tool we have for screening for colon cancer.”

“I think,” Samuel said confidently, “I will pass at being in that room, unless you make me.”

Jonghyun was having a good laugh over the entire matter, but Seokjin frowned and was sure to say, “You’re our employee, Samuel, which means we have expectations for you. But we never want to put you in a situation that makes you feel uncomfortable or coerced. I meant that. If you ever feel that way, you need to be responsible enough to speak up and tell someone. I promise, we will listen.”

Samuel’s face softened a little as he assured, “I know that, Doctor Kim. Don’t worry.”

Seokjin held his gaze for a moment, just to be absolutely sure, then asked Jonghyun, “You finished then?”

Seokjin noticed how Samuel was dressed, then. It was odd for just a moment to see him in fancier clothing than normal. He wasn’t working that day, which meant he was dressed in flashier clothes that seemed to suit him well. The jewelry was back, necklaces and bracelets and rings across his fingers, and certainly the nail polish. Seokjin was sure only a teenager would be content to wear nail polish for a day or so, just to have to take it off.

Seokjin almost didn’t want to break his heart and tell him what kind of dress code his new school would have.

“Doctor Kim?”

Joy’s voice behind Seokjin had him turning. “Problem?” he asked instinctively. The day was going far too smoothly for there not to suddenly be a problem.

“Depends,” she returned, giving him an easy look. “There’s a couple guys here to see you.”

“Guys?”

She eased into a smile as she practically giggled out, “Nurse V.”

Seokjin had to give her a grin back for that. He loved that Taehyung’s nickname had caught on with the entire staff, and the nurses in particular loved calling him that. Joy just thought he was adorable, and Seokjin could absolutely agree there.

“To say hi or does he want something?”

“I think he’s here to see you about an injury?” She shrugged. “He signed in as a patient.”

Seokjin remembered the injury he’d sustained, and replied, “Oh, that definitely makes sense. Can you talk to Raina in the front about getting him squeezed in without making it look obvious?” Seokjin had asked Taehyung to come in when he had the time, so he could look the wound over personally. Seokjin knew rationally that Taehyung’s wound was Dongwoo’s fault, and not his own, but he still felt guilty.

“Of course,” she said easily.

From his desk in the office, Jonghyun called out, “Who’s the second visitor?”

Joy’s face darkened. “The rude one.”

“Ah,” Jonghyun breathed out, “Jimin.”

Surprised, Seokjin echoed, “Jimin? What’s he doing here?”

Awkwardly, and with a bit of a stammer, Samuel voiced, “Um, well, he’s here for me.” He cleared his throat. “To pick me up.”

Now Jonghyun just sounded confused as he asked, “Why would that punk be picking you up?”

Seokjin met Samuel’s gaze seriously and asked, “Why is he here for you?”

Samuel shifted on his feet nervously, then asked, “Can we talk about that in private?”

Joy put her hands up in a surrendering way and backed away. Jonghyun just seemed irritated he couldn’t be part of whatever drama was going on.

“I’ll walk you up to the front,” Seokjin said, leaving Jonghyun behind to finish up Samuel’s paperwork.

“We’re just talking, you know,” Samuel rushed to say when there was an air of privacy. “When I thought I was going to have to leave, I called him. I couldn’t believe he actually took the call, but he did. And he listened to me talk. I don’t think he forgives me, but he’s willing to listen. That’s good, right?”

“It is,” Seokjin said, and he was just relieved that Jimin had been willing. Jimin had an awful tendency of just closing himself off to things that hurt him. It was serious progress if he was simply willing to listen.

“Soooo,” Samuel eased out, “we’re definitely just talking now. I guess trying to find some friendship. I don’t know what we’re doing, honestly. Maybe this is a horrible idea and it’s gonna blow up in my face. But I thought he’d never talk to me, so I’ll take this.”

Because, and Seokjin could see it all over his face, Samuel absolutely had feelings for Jimin still. And not the kind that were simple crush feelings.

“Samuel,” Seokjin started, “you know the two of you can’t …”

“I said friendship,” Samuel said quickly, going red. “There’s no way someone like him is ever going to be interested in someone everyone says is a kid. So I’m not sailing that fantasy ship anytime soon.”

Seokjin smothered down a smile.

“Honestly,” Samuel said somberly, “I just want him to like me again. I just want him to be my friend.”

“Fair enough,” Seokjin conceded. He just wondered if that wasn’t easier said than done.

Samuel passed in front of Seokjin to exit into the lobby, and Seokjin got a whiff of Jimmy Choo.

He was certain Jimin’s helmet was going to reek of it forever.

“Hi, Jin,” Taehyung greeted easily enough when Seokjin got to him. He had his regular employee badge pinned onto his shirt. “Ready to report for work.”

Seokjin mouthed a thank you to Raina who was watching, and replied to Taehyung, “Good to know. Exam room two, please. I’ll be there in a second.”

Taehyung gave a salute and breezed by, though not without some stiffness that indicated he was probably experiencing at least a bit of lingering pain.

When Seokjin turned away from him, that’s when he saw Jimin.

And really, Seokjin thought Jimin was not helping Samuel in the least bit by the way he was lounging out in the sun against his motorcycle, parked right in front of the clinic, looking dashingly handsome. Jimin looked the definition of a desirable bad boy, and the squeak of suffering that Samuel made as he skidded to a stop, said he agreed.

“Come on then,” Seokjin beckoned, pushing ahead even as he waved to a familiar patient of his.

“Wait, what?” Samuel demanded. “You’re coming out with me?”

“Of course I am,” Seokjin declared. “I promised your cousin I’d look after you while he was gone, and that means making sure that boundaries are set.”

“Boundaries!” Samuel hustled after Seokjin who was taking large strides out of the clinic. “I don’t need a big brother!”

“Jin,” Jimin said easily when they got to him, but Seokjin could see the calculating way he looking between the both of them. “Need something?”

“Actually,” Seokjin started.

Samuel cut in sharply, “No, no he does not. There is no needing here. There is nothing but two people—okay three at the moment but it should be two—needing nothing. Nothing.”

Jimin told him frankly, “You should probably stop and breathe.”

Samuel bent forward and put his hands on his knees, doing just that.

Jimin asked Seokjin again, then, “Can I help you?”

“You can,” Seokjin said firmly, not willing to budge on what he was going to say. “I’m not,” he said, much to the surprise of Samuel, and maybe even Jimin, “going to comment on the two of you. I think that’s said and done already. It’s not my business anymore, and it won’t be unless it needs to be again.”

Jimin actually looked a little gleeful as he posed, “Is this like your trial run for when Jungkook actually gets serious about someone?” He asked Samuel, “There’s a phrase for this in English, right?”

Still bent over, Samuel offered in English, “Shovel talk.”

Sharply, Seokjin warned, “Jimin, I’m being serious here. Keep your head on your shoulders and your brain working, and none of this is my business.”

“Okay,” Jimin said.

“What is my business,” Seokjin continued, “is that Yunho is expecting me to look after Samuel. He’s not a baby. He doesn’t need me to hold his hand when he crosses the street. But Yunho is one of my best friends, and he supported me and the clinic behind me when not many people were willing to. So I’m going to treat Samuel as if he’s my cousin, until Yunho comes back in the country.”

Looking less like he was going to have a panic attack, Samuel straightened up.

Seokjin considered, “Maybe I’m even going to treat Samuel like a surrogate little brother. So I want us to be perfectly clear about that, Jimin. When you put Samuel on your bike, it’s like putting Jungkook back there.”

There was something very real and very fond about the way that Jimin smiled at him. “You want me to drive careful. That’s all you had to say, you know.”

“I’m saying it now.”

Jimin reached back on the bike of his helmet and tossed it to Samuel who caught it easily.

Softer now, Seokjin asked, “Please be careful, Jimin. I know you’re a good driver. I give you crap because you know I think that’s a death machine you’re driving, but I know you’re more than competent. I just worry about all the other drivers out there. They’re not considerate or safe or even focused at times. So just be a little extra careful, okay? Don’t take unnecessary chances.”

“Jin,” Jimin said, his smile reaching his eyes now, “you don’t have to worry.”

“I always worry.”

“You should try and do less of that.”

Samuel had the helmet firmly on and snapped into place when he rounded the bike to get on.

“Any chance that you could be a normal person and just get a sedan?”

Jimin popped his own helmet on and laughed loudly. “And be old and boring like you?”

The bike started up, so Seokjin had to shout to be heard, “Even with my heart, I think I’ll live longer than you because of that bike!”

“You’ll definitely live longer than me,” Jimin called back, and his words sounded like a promise.

Seokjin did not need Jimin throwing himself on a sword to make that a reality.

“Drive safe,” Seokjin urged again.

With Samuel’s arms locked tightly around Jimin’s core, they took off down the street. Seokjin watched them go with mixed feelings. He truly hoped that the two of them were trying to repair some kind of friendship. But Seokjin wasn’t confident that attraction could simply be turned off, despite any kind of information that had come to light.

Did Seokjin think Jimin was going to take advantage of Samuel at his age? No. But Seokjin did think there was a possibility Jimin might drive himself crazy over the whole matter. And that said nothing about what kind of emotional turmoil Samuel might endure. The kid needed stability for the upcoming school year, not an aching heart.

But there was no point in dwelling what he wasn’t able to control. The only thing he could do was hope things worked out well for them, and concentrate on himself.

And Taehyung, of course, who was waiting for him inside.

“I’m glad you decided to come down like I asked,” Seokjin said when he got into the examination room he’d sent Taehyung to. It was also nice to see Taehyung had toed his shoes off to get comfortable, and was sitting on the examination table without any trepidation.

Taehyung grinned at him. “I’m no dummy. I know what a request from you really means.”

“It’s just a request,” Seokjin pointed out.

“Um, no, that’s a trap.”

“A trap?” Seokjin laughed a little.

“It’s like the kind of trap that you can get caught in when a girl asks you if the dress makes her look fat, or you break something and your mom asks if you know who did it, but she totally already knows it was you. That kind of trap. My point is, I know what’s actually a request, and what’s a threat.”

There was nothing heavy about the conversation happening, and Seokjin was genuinely curious about what Taehyung was going on about, so he let him ramble.

“I promise you, when I asked you to come down here, it wasn’t a threat.”

Seokjin was getting gloves on and gathering materials by the time Taehyung replied, “I mean, I guess, sure, but then you’d look at me all disapprovingly, or maybe like it’s a personal attack that I’m not letting you check on me, and I don’t want that. You’ve got that parental guilt thing down so good. You’re super ready to exercise it whenever you have a kid.”

“Or on Jungkook?”

Taehyung beamed, “I kind of thought that’s where you perfected it.”

“That’s true,” Seokjin revealed, then motioned to Taehyung, “Either lift your shirt up, or take it off.”

Scandalized, Taehyung gasped out, “Doctor Kim!”

“I know, I know,” Seokjin replied, playing along, “what would my boyfriend think? But I just can’t control myself.”

Taehyung pulled his shirt up to his neck, and then fully over his head in an unabashed way. And it was pretty fair to call unabashed the definition of Taehyung in general. Taehyung always seemed confident of who he was, and even when he was goofy, or made mistakes, or even was embarrassed, he never hid who he was. And he was clearly hitting the gym with Jungkook, because he was very physically fit.

“Like what you see?” Taehyung teased, flexing muscles. “I know, I know, you can’t leave Rap Mon for me, but we’ve always got our dreams.”

“I know what I see,” Seokjin corrected. He poked Taehyung in the side at his wound, causing him to wince and hiss in pain.

“You evil doctor,” Taehyung gasped out.

“You haven’t been taking it easy,” Seokjin said knowingly. He didn’t even need to see the wound itself, which was still covered by a white bandage, to know it. Everything he needed to know came strictly from the way Taehyung was carrying himself.  

Taehyung stopped a minute to catch his breath, something that seemed more of a diversionary tactic than anything else.

“I’m starting to sense a trend,” Seokjin offered up. “Bangtan members and injuries.”

“They go well together,” Taehyung said cheerily enough.

“But none of you knows how to properly deal with them,” Seokjin said. “Or maybe you do, but you choose to ignore common sense. Taehyung, be truthful with me, you haven’t been following my advice to rest, have you?”

At least Taehyung didn’t try and deny anything as he argued back, “Jin, it’s not like I got hurt like Suga this most recent time. I got a little cut up, that’s it.”

Carefully, Seokjin peeled the bandage back. “You did not just get a little cut up.”

Taehyung huffed out, “I didn’t need stitches.”

“Barely.”

Seokjin probed the wound carefully and methodically, happy to see that it wasn’t as inflamed and agitated as he’d expected. And he stood by his earlier decision that the wound, while nothing to pass off as anything to be happy about, didn’t need stitches. He could have sewn Taehyung up, but it hadn’t been necessary.

He questioned Taehyung, “Do you know what he difference between your injury and Yoongi’s is?”

“I got nothing,” Taehyung admitted.

“Yoongi’s,” Seokjin provided, “was deep, but it was clean. That’s what ultimately saved his life. It was very clean, in terms of placement. I could stitch him up, medicate him, and check him frequently for infection, and I knew other than that, there wasn’t much to worry about? But your wound? It’s less in size and depth, but it’s messy. And that girl, whoever she was, she meant it to be that way.”

Taehyung looked thoughtful as he said, “We’ve been trying to figure out who she is since then. And here’s what we do know: she’s not Infinite.”

Seokjin froze. “She’s not?”

“No,” Taehyung said confidently. “She’s something else completely, and that’s a terrifying thought.”

Seokjin’s fingers brushed over the placement of the wound on Taehyung’s side. “She knew exactly where she was putting that knife,” he grossed. “Any more pressure here, where she hurt you, and she would have hit an artery. And here’s the thing, I think she knew that I knew that.”

Taehyung looked worried. “How?”

That wasn’t something Seokjin had an absolute answer for, but he said, “She kept making eye contact with me. At first I thought she was just taunting me, but then I realized she wasn’t just taunting, she was toying. She knew exactly who I was, and what I knew, and that’s why she was going for an up-close kill, if it was going to happen.”

Seokjin could practically see the puff of air that passed from Taehyung at that.

“You think I’m just mothering you,” Seokjin said, cleaning the healing wound and rebandaging it, “but I need you to understand how close you came to death. Dongwoo puts on this cheery persona, maybe to throw people off, maybe because he’s just crazy, but if he’d given the order, you would have bled out in that parking lot. I knew that within a second of seeing your predicament. That’s why I gave in so quickly.”

Taehyung’s hands curled against his knees as he asked weakly, “Oh, we’re gonna talk about that?”

Seokjin stood from the rolling stool he liked to sit on during his examinations, and got to his full height. He put a gentle hand under Taehyung’s chin and lifted his head so they met eyes.

“You are my friend,” Seokjin told him firmly and without waver. “You are someone I trust, and value, and someone I love very much. Namjoon talks about Bangtan being a brotherhood, and even if I’m not one of you, I still consider you family.”

Taehyung broke in fiercely, “You are one of us.”

It was an interruption Seokjin allowed, before he continued, “I know why Namjoon was mad at Hoseok that night. And I get the line he has to draw in the sand with me. But this is me telling you that you’re someone I would never sacrifice, under any condition, no matter what. One life is never okay to trade for another, and I hope you understand that. I’ll fight for you, Taehyung if I have to. I’ll take on all of Infinite. And I won’t let them use you against me or anyone else.”

“You can’t say these mushy things to me, Jin,” Taehyung warned, eyes looking suspiciously wet.

“Then get it through that brain of yours.” Seokjin flicked him at the back of the head for good measure. “Hoseok was in an impossible situation. We don’t trade ourselves, and I won’t accept you thinking it’s even remotely okay.”

Seokjin felt Taehyung’s arms go around him, and he hugged tightly. There, in the privacy of the room, it was okay to do or say whatever they wanted.

“Maybe he made the right call,” Taehyung announced into Seokjin’s side, face muffled in his doctor’s coat, “but he made it for the wrong reason.”

“To save your life?” Seokjin scoffed.

Taehyung let go of him then, in order to answer, “He made the call because he put his feelings for me ahead of anything else.”

Seokjin helped Taehyung get his shirt back on, satisfied that he was healing just fine, and agreed, “That’s what Namjoon explained to me. I was pretty mad at him before I understood all the information surrounding what happened, but that just goes to show that context is everything. I’m less mad now.”

“The thing is,” Taehyung said, “I’m mad at myself, too. And you can’t tell me I’m not allowed to be.”

“I guess you’re allowed to be anything you want,” Seokjin reasoned. “But why?”

Seokjin deposited the items he’d used to clean up Taehyung’s wound in the garbage and pushed his stool back into place. He preferred the first examination room, with its view and placement in the building, but examination room two wasn’t horrible. And currently it had served its purpose.

“Because,” Taehyung ground out now, sounding angrier and far less sad or guilty, “I love you, too. You’re my brother, too. You’re not just someone that I’m supposed to protect because you’re Jungkook’s brother or Rap Mon’s boyfriend or whatever. You’re someone I care about and would do anything for.”

Seokjin was sensing a but.

And when it came, it was in the form of Taehyung admitting, “But that night? If it had been Hobi’s life being threatened, and I’d have had to choose between the two of you? I would have made the same choice he did. I would have let you go with Dongwoo, probably thinking that you were going to die because of it. Because I love Hobi, and I’d be thinking with my heart, too. Not my head.”

Looking absolutely bereft, Taehyung’s head dipped again, and Seokjin couldn’t stand it. He framed Taehyung’s face with his hands and insisted, shaking him just slightly for effect, “Do you think you’re different than anyone else on this planet? Taehyung, you’re human, and you’re in love. Do not feel bad because you would have made a choice that anyone else would have.”

“Jin, I…”

“Telling me you would have chosen Hoseok,” Seokjin told him frankly, “doesn’t mean you don’t love me, or consider me a friend, or care about me. It just means you’re human. I think you underestimate just how true that statement is. And choosing with your heart doesn’t make you weak, and it doesn’t mean you made a mistake. It doesn’t make you a bad person, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

Taehyung bent forward, even though it had to be causing him pain, and covered his face with his hands.

Slowly, Seokjin said, “I think even if we love a lot of people, ultimately everyone has a preference in their mind of who comes first. For me, it’s Jungkook. I love Namjoon very much, but in Hoseok’s situation, I would have chosen Jungkook, no matter the consequences. It doesn’t mean I don’t love all of the rest of you or Namjoon in particular, it just means that in my mind and my heart, Jungkook comes first. It feels natural and normal to have someone come first, but it doesn’t take away from anything else. The sooner you get that, the sooner you can stop beating yourself up.”

Raggedly, Taehyung said, “I don’t ever want to be in that situation again.”

Seokjin didn’t think that was a reality, not in the line of work Bangtan was in. There was no predicting what came next, but things always got worse before they got better.

Seokjin rubbed a hand along Taehyung’s back, often like he’d do for Jungkook. And after a short while, he said, “We can’t predict the future, and there will always be hard choices to make. The best we can do is our best, and we have to be satisfied with that.”

Taehyung wasn’t that much older than Jungkook. And while he could look impossibly old sometimes due to Bangtan, and knew how to survive in every way possible, he also reminded Seokjin of Jungkook a lot, too. Seokjin looked at Taehyung frequently and saw someone who made him think of his baby brother, and some of those deeper emotions must have transferred at some point, because it wasn’t just simple affection he felt for Taehyung now. He loved him as if Taehyung was a little brother.

“You really think that?” Taehyung asked.

“I do,” Seokjin said honestly. “I wish I could tell you that I see all flowers and kittens in our future, and I honestly think we’re going to have even harder choices to face in the future. So we can’t rank our success rate by what happens after the choices we make, but instead why we make those choices, and our intentions.”

Taehyung worried his fingers in his lap, twisting them together, before asking, “Can you say this really awesome stuff to Hobi?”

Worriedly, Seokjin asked, “Is this something he needs to hear? Because Jungkook says when I talk I sound like an after school special, but if it makes a difference, I’ll talk to anyone who wants to listen.”

“I think you need to,” Taehyung said with a deep sigh. “He says he’s okay when I ask him, but I know he’s not. He thinks he made the wrong call. He thinks he messed up. Rap Mon isn’t angry anymore, but Hobi is. And I think him hearing that from you will make him feel better. I feel better now.”

Seokjin put an arm around Taehyung and promised, “The next time I get the chance, I’ll give him the same speech, okay? Because I really mean what I said, and I hope you do, too. I hope he will. No one wins in a situation like that, and the only person who gets the blame, is the person who set everyone up.”

Taehyung swore, “We’re gonna kill him, Jin. We’re gonna kill them all. I know you don’t like hearing stuff like that, but we are. This has to end.”

“I want it to end, too,” Seokjin said quietly. “But I don’t want you to have to do anything like that to make it happen.”

With a raised eyebrow, Taehyung asked, “Do you honestly think there’s any other way to end this? Myungsoo is not going to stop. Hoya is not going to stop. Dongwoo is not going to stop. And there are other players now, too. Players we don’t know anything about. It’s dog eat dog again. Maybe it always was. And someone has to die for it to end.”

“Then,” Seokjin said decisively, “you and the others need to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re not the ones that end up in the ground. I’m not going to condone the things you do, but you are my family, and I’m done losing family. I feel like I’ve lost enough. I’m not losing you, too.”

When Taehyung hugged him again, it was a little unexpected. But Taehyung’s hug was warm and full, and felt great. So Seokjin let himself sink into it, putting a protective hand to the back of Taehyung’s head.

He was never going to be okay with the killing. He was never going to be okay with the violence.

But he meant what he said about loss. He was done. He’d given enough. He’d lost enough. He’d sacrificed enough. So if Bangtan had to get their hands dirty to end the threat that was Infinite, then maybe it was something necessary, and it was also something he could accept. Or at least try to.

“Can I hang out here today?” Taehyung asked as he slid down from the table a couple minutes later.

“Are you supposed to be watching the clinic today?”

“Not originally,” Taehyung replied. “But I had to come here anyway, so I offered to do it.”

“Want to take on some responsibilities, Nurse V?”

Taehyung’s chest puffed out a little. “I saw one of my favorite patients out there. If you’ll let me, I’m totally in, today. Even more if you’ve got any juicy surgeries.”

“You just missed one earlier today,” Seokjin told him as he opened the door. “But there’ll be more. There are always more.”

“You gotta deal me in on something good,” Taehyung practically begged, ducking through the doorway.

With a promise, Seokjin said, “I’ll see what’s coming up next, okay? If we can swing it, and get the okay from the patient, I don’t see why you can’t be in the room.”

“Awesome,” Taehyung breathed out.

He took off down the hallway quickly, right towards the white board where everyone’s schedule for the day was laid out. Taehyung studied it intently, clearly trying to strategize where he wanted to be.

Seokjin felt guilty that he’d waited so long to say something to Taehyung about what had happened. He’d known Taehyung had been shaken by the events of that night, but he’d put it off for days, and that meant Taehyung had suffered for just as long.

“See anything that looks good?” Seokjin asked, coming up behind him leisurely. “I’m going to take some walk-ins, which you might find boring, but I think Jessica has an upcoming consult looking at a shattered nose she’s going to reconstruct, and Hongbin is always fun because of the kids he has as patients. Pick your poison.”

Taehyung told him in an appreciative tone, “You are so good to me, Jin.”

Seokjin patted him on the shoulder as he walked by and said to him, “You’re worth it, Taehyung.”


	37. Chapter Thirty-Seven

Seokjin was laughing so hard he was in danger of causing a scene, but he couldn’t help himself. And frankly, didn’t want to. Laughing so hard his sides hurt felt amazing, and it was made even better by the fact that it was Namjoon’s story that had compelled him to feel that way. He’d nearly knocked his glass of water over, and they’d been in the restaurant so long that they were probably overstaying their welcome, but Seokjin didn’t care.

“I swear it’s all true,” Namjoon insisted, nudging the table as he leaned forward. The dishes on the table rattled a little but Namjoon wasn’t fazed. “I was standing there, in the lake, in broad daylight, wearing absolutely nothing. And there were families everywhere. Everywhere.”

Seokjin wasn’t sure how they’d gotten started on trying to one-up each other with embarrassing stories from their teenage years, but Seokjin had been certain he was going to win, until Namjoon had started in on the story he was currently telling.

“The moment I got out of the water,” Namjoon said with a flourish, “I knew mothers were going to start screaming at me for being a pervert. And kids were going to be scarred for life. And probably some guys were going to try and beat me up. So I was stuck.”

Aside from exactly one boyfriend, someone Seokjin had dated just before he’d turned seventeen and gone to college, and the very one that had taught him the evasive driving that Seokjin had been forced to show off to Jungkook, he’d never really had any exciting relationships. Seokjin was more of a steady going person, and he was attracted to the same sort of thing. He liked men who were reliable, and grounded, and honestly a little boring.

It was probably a miracle that he’d ended up with Namjoon who tended to be more sporadic and clearly lived a dangerous life.

Therefore, Seokjin had next to no stories about relationships gone bad. All of his relationships had ended due to mutual reasons, and he still remained friends with some of the men he’d dated.

He’d certainly never had an ex steal his clothing at a lake full of families as a final middle finger to the end of a relationship.

“Look,” Namjoon breezed out, “I fully admit, breaking up with my boyfriend out of the blue, in such a public place, a week before our anniversary, was not the best choice I could have made, but live and learn, right?”

Seokjin clutched the table as he laughed, unable to get the picture of a nineteen-year-old Namjoon, trapped in a lake by his nudity.

Seokjin barely caught his breath enough to point out, “Didn’t think that through, did you?”

In a pleased way, Namjoon took a long drink of his beer and admitted, “When I was nineteen, I never thought anything through. I think that’s the definition of being nineteen.”

Trying to collect himself a little, Seokjin asked, “Why did you do it right then and there? Break up with him, I mean.”

“I was in love with someone else.”

“Oh.” Seokjin straightened up.

“Or at least I thought I was,” Namjoon said. “I also stand by the fact that when you’re nineteen, you do think you know what love is.”

The laugher was still bubbling inside Seokjin, but on the note of something a little more serious, he said, “I think that you can love at nineteen.”

Namjoon replied, “I think you can think you’re in love at nineteen. But you don’t know anything at nineteen. You don’t know yourself at nineteen. Love is just this construct at that point, and not something tangible or real. Not the kind of love that stays with you a whole lifetime.” Namjoon gave him a heavy look and said more softly, “I didn’t know what actual love was, the kind that makes you feel like you can do anything and be anything, until I met you.”

“You better not start getting mushy on me,” Seokjin warned, but he was already leaning across the table for a kiss.

“I mean it,” Namjoon said. “I dated a lot of people before you, and I thought I loved some of them, but none of them could compare fractionally to you.”

Seokjin agreed, “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

“I’m going to get us kicked out of this restaurant,” Namjoon said. “Because I’m about to crawl over this table to get to you.”

“Finish the story,” Seokjin ordered, kissing Namjoon once more to hold him over. “You have to tell me how you got out of the lake.”

Namjoon finished the last of his beer, and after that there was officially nothing left on the table for them to eat or drink. Seokjin had wanted to let them get a little into the meal before talking about the heavier things coming up, but as it often happened with Namjoon, the conversation had just sort of snowballed.

So unless they were going to order more food—Seokjin already felt like he could burst, the conversation they needed to have was going to happen after they left the restaurant.

“I didn’t,” Namjoon chuckled out. “At least not right away.”

Seokjin shook his head in disbelief. “How long did you stay in that lake?”

“So long I almost turned into water.” He held up his hand for example and said, “My fingers got so pruny that they stayed that way for days afterwards. I had to wait until all of the families left, and it was night, and then I had to sneak my way back to the car. I guess the only break I got was that the cabin we’d booked to stay at for the weekend was relatively close, and we hadn’t locked the door.”

Now Seokjin had a mental picture of a naked Namjoon running through the woods at midnight, praying not to be seen.

That just left one question on Seokjin’s mind, and he had to ask, “How did you end up naked in the lake to begin with?”

Namjoon brushed a little. “I was nineteen, Jin. We were pretty far out in some murky water. Do I need to spell it out for you? The lake was huge and there were some secluded spots when we got there early in the morning. We had some privacy. It was just mostly gone by the time I got my swim trunks stolen.”

“You’re a bad boy,” Seokjin laughed out. “I certainly never went skinny dipping.”

“No,” Namjoon agreed. “You just started stunt driving instead.”

“Hey.” Seokjin held up a warning finger.

“No hey,” Namjoon tossed at him. “You can’t just bust out some Fast and Furious moves and think Jungkook isn’t going to tell the world. You earned the maximum amount of cool big brother points that night. Enough to last you years.”

“I was trying to save our lives,” Seokjin insisted.

“And you did,” Namjoon said absolutely. “The two of you are breathing because of that, and I do believe that to be the truth.”

Namjoon got up from his seat, and offered a hand to Seokjin.

“But I’m still curious.”

They left the restaurant at a leisure pace, strolling out onto the sidewalk for an after-dinner walk. Seokjin wasn’t naïve enough to think they’d have complete privacy, but they were deep in the stronghold of Bangtan’s territory, and Namjoon’s men were getting even better at hanging back and keeping a low profile, that they could pretend.

“I was sixteen,” Seokjin said, offering up Namjoon’s same excuse. “And even if I was trying my best to be a good son, I was practically overwhelmed by graduating early so I could fulfill my dream to be a doctor. And at the end of the day, I was still a teenager.”

“So you dated a race car driver?”

“He wasn’t a race car driver,” Seokjin clarified. He felt Namjoon’s fingers brush his, so he gripped them tightly in return. Their hands swung a little as Seokjin said, “His older brother was actually a stunt driver living in L.A. working on some big budget Hollywood films. He’d taught his young brother and sister some fancy moves, and I imagine my boyfriend wanted to show off for me. We weren’t dating just before that, but he wanted to be.”

Namjoon wiggled his eyebrows. “So he had to find a way to compete with your riveting books about anthropology and physics?”

“I guess.” Seokjin shrugged. “He took me out in this old car he had, to this vacant lot outside of town, and he taught me some driving exercises. At the time, I just thought he was a showboat, even if he was a cute one, but now I’m thankful. Neither one of us was nearly old enough to drive at that point, and my father would have had a stroke at the time if he knew, but I was definitely won over. What sixteen-year-old wouldn’t be?”

Seokjin remembered clearly the words that had been said to him by the boy who would be his boyfriend in less than a day. He’d been told, “Everyone should hope they get to go their entire lives without ever having to use anything I’m going to teach you. But if you do find yourself in a bad situation, these tricks might save your life.”

“It’s called evasive or defensive driving,” Seokjin clarified. “It’s not flashy for the sake of it.”

Namjoon said, “I just wanted to know the story behind it. I don’t care what it’s for, or if you think it’s flashy or not. I’m glad you know how to do what you know. And you should teach Jungkook.”

Seokjin scoffed, “I’m not going to teach my brother that kind of driving. Jungkook would definitely abuse those skills.”

“Or,” Namjoon posed, “it could help keep him safe.”

Namjoon maybe had a point, but Seokjin wanted to give that a little extra thought. Once Seokjin had learned a couple of tricks, and that relationship had passed, he’d never had a reason to drive like a madman. He’d also not had a car for a very long time. But Jungkook? Jungkook had the kind of personality that might get addicted to something like that. Seokjin felt like teaching Jungkook any kind of evasive driving, was playing with fire.

“Maybe,” Seokjin conceded. “But in order for me to teach him anything, he’ll need to get a car.”

Namjoon guided them towards a more well-lit street, and asked, “He’s still bumming rides, then? I thought he’d gotten everything squared away with the insurance company.”

“He did,” Seokjin agreed. “He filed the claim, submitted all the paperwork, and did his part. But because of the type of damage to the car, and how extensive it was, and because there was a police report filed, it’s taking some time. Jungkook should get a check from the insurance company soon, but until then, yes, he’s bumming a ride.”

Namjoon frowned and asked, “Didn’t your dad leave a big trust for the both of you?”

“He left a sizable amount to Jungkook,” Seokjin said easily enough, “mostly for his school. And what he doesn’t know is that there’s a hefty payout waiting for him if he actually completes college and gets a degree. Otherwise he’ll have to wait until he’s thirty for the money. Everything else went to me for the clinic.”

“Then can’t Jungkook just buy a new car?”

“Of course he could,” Seokjin said. “but that wouldn’t teach him how to be an adult. He needs to know how to handle having a car totaled. He needs to master paperwork, and dealing with insurance companies, and filing police reports, and everything else. He’s going to be nineteen this year, and I want him ready for when people look at him and only see an adult.”

The truth was, Seokjin had been terribly tempted to buy Jungkook a car from his own bank account. Because Jungkook’s car had only been totaled due to the target on Seokjin’s back. None of it had been Jungkook’s fault in the least bit.

Not to mention there was plenty of money. Seokjin had said that his father had left him a majority of his money for the clinic, but that wasn’t necessarily specific enough. Going through his father’s finances he’d found that there were three separate accounts set aside for him. One had been just his father’s nest egg for Seokjin personally. It had been one hoarded away since Seokjin was born, building interest, truly making Seokjin a trust fund baby.

And the second had absolutely been for the clinic.

But the third? The third was a general bank account that included stocks and bonds, property deeds, all of his father’s worldly possessions, and a number so ridiculous that it was something Seokjin couldn’t begin to deal with. That account had been sitting stagnant since Seokjin’s father had died, and like the apartment, would probably continue to remain that way.

What was Seokjin supposed to do with all that money? What point was there to it? Seokjin had a steady income now that the clinic was doing well, and he and Namjoon lived comfort. Seokjin had no desire to live in luxury, and he had no desire to spend money that his father had been accumulating due to being a workaholic.

Especially since his father had been a workaholic to avoid the pain and misery that came from the heartache he’d carried in him for nearly two decades.

So for now the money was sitting, building interest. And Seokjin designated that a problem for another day.

“You’re one strict big brother.”

Seokjin wondered, “You want me to just hand things to Jungkook on a silver platter?”

“No,” Namjoon decided after a moment. “I guess you’re right. Hey, are you going to be like this with our kids?”

Seokjin practically startled, “You want to talk about how we’re going to handle our kids?” That was a shocker, considering they’d nearly broken up over the subject.

“Theoretical children,” Namjoon corrected quickly.  “What?”

“I’m just surprised.”

Namjoon seemed to take a steadying breath, then admitted, “I’ve just been thinking about it, okay? Thinking is free.”

Seokjin chuckled out, “You’d think there was a charge, by the way Jungkook conveniently forgets to use his mind half the time he’s awake.”

Seokjin felt such content then, walking along with Namjoon, the night weather pleasant and the streets thinning out. They were ambling their way slowly towards the Noodle House, but Seokjin didn’t know if that was something deliberate on Namjoon’s part, or accidental. Instinctive.

Seokjin wondered, “What about our theoretical kids?”

Namjoon wanted to know, “Are you going to be really strict with them?”

The best part of the moment, was that Seokjin could imagine them five years down the road, ten, or even fifteen, taking the same walk after dinner, but maybe with their children in tow. Seokjin could imagine the group of them moving down the street, the children chattering excitedly, and Namjoon listening in a focused way.

“Strict sounds mean.”

“Not strict then. Firm?”

Seokjin hadn’t really given any thought to how he might be as a farther. That was so far off it seemed unnecessary to dedicate time to. But since Namjoon was asking now, it was worth considering.

He ended up saying, “My father did a lot of things wrong as a parent to myself and Jungkook. He made a lot of mistakes. I understand why now, and I accept the choices he made, but they were still mistakes.

Namjoon jerked them to a stop and said strongly, “You’re not your father, Jin. You’re not going to make the mistakes he did.”

“I hope not.” Seokjin was the one tugging them then, getting them walking again. “But for all the mistakes my father made with us, he did some things right. He did do well in some areas. His delivery certainly needed help, but he never let Jungkook or I grow up feeling privileged. We certainly were, make no mistake, but we learned humility and gratefulness.”

“Good things,” Namjoon commented.

“We had a big apartment,” Seokjin continued, “we went on vacations, we had nice things. We had a housekeeper and a nanny, true. But our father exposed us to what poverty looked like. He wanted us to see what starvation was, and homelessness, and all the things that we weren’t.”

Namjoon interjected, “I want our kids to always be grateful for what they’ll have—and between the two of us, they’ll have a lot.”

Seokjin had fond memories of growing up and being charitable, and he told Namjoon, “Jungkook and I helped out at shelters, and soup kitchens, and we did volunteer work. It wasn’t negotiable, as far as our father was concerned.  He expected us to set an example for others, and I’ll always be thankful to him for that.”

His forehead furrowing, Namjoon pointed out, “It just seems weird that if your dad wanted you to do all that, that he couldn’t accept what you chose to do with your life?”

A cool breeze caught them in a lovely way, and Seokjin reasoned out, “I think he wanted those things for me when I was younger, to keep me from being a greedy and unworthy man. He wanted me to know charity and compassion and selflessness to make me a better person overall. But at the back of his mind the most important thing was always excellence. And even in the end, he had a hard time rectifying our differences of opinion when it came to the definition of success.

Ultimately, Seokjin though his father just hadn’t had enough time. In another ten or twenty years, Seokjin thought the clinic was going to look nothing like it did now. Right now it looked nothing like it used to. He was going to continue to expand, and grow, and develop what ultimately was his practice.

In time, he wanted to think that his definition of success, and his father’s, would have eventually met in the middle.

His father’s premature death seemed just another unfair loss Seokjin had suffered.

Or maybe that was selfish to think. Because in the end his father had been ready to go, and had dared to hope that he could be reunited with the family that had already passed. So who was Seokjin to try and hold onto him for a little longer and deprive him of that?

“We’re going to be fair parents,” Seokjin told Namjoon. “We’ll raise our children to appreciate what they have, and give to the less fortunate, and think of others before themselves. They’re going to have a lot of privilege and advantages. That’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’ll only be shameful if they choose to be greedy because of that.”

“In that case,” Namjoon snuck in, “we’ll make them clean bedpans at the clinic.”

“I keep telling you, that’s not a punishment,” Seokjin laughed again. “It’s not that bad. I did it all the time during my residency.”

“You can change dirty diapers then.”

Seokjin actually looked forward to that a bit. He just wanted to have that same starstruck look in his eyes, that Jonghyun did when he looked at Yebin.

Eventually, when they were about halfway to the Noodle House, Seokjin couldn’t put it off any longer, and said to Namjoon, “I wanted to talk to you about something tonight. Something important.”

“Okaayyy,” Namjoon eased out, sounding nervous. “Something important.”

“Serious,” Seokjin corrected. He didn’t want to scare Namjoon, but the topic absolutely was serious.

“Now I’m freaked out,” Namjoon warned. “What’s wrong? Is there a problem? Is there a problem with us?”

Seokjin gave Namjoon’s hand a hard squeeze. “No. There’s no problem between us.”

In a relieved way, Namjoon said, “I didn’t think so, but I just got a decade scared off my life anyway. Jin, what’s going on?”

Deciding just to jump in, and worried that he’d get cowardly if he waited any longer, Seokjin said, “You know that generally speaking, my medical condition is … degenerative.”

 Before he could say anything else, Namjoon pulled him to a stop again. With wide, worried eyes, Namjoon gripped his upper arms in a solid way, and breathed out, “Something’s wrong with your heart.”

Seokjin gave him an encouraging grin before reminding, “I was born with something wrong.”

“Damnit, Jin.”

“You know what degenerative means,” Seokjin said. “We’ve talked about how there isn’t a cure for my condition, and that things will continue to get worse the older I get.”

Now Namjoon didn’t look like he was breathing as he asked, “What’s wrong with your heart? How bad is your heart?”

Namjoon’s hands fell away from Seokjin’s arms and he gulped in enough air to prove to Seokjin that he had indeed been holding his breath.

“Minah,” Seokjin still struggled to get out, “she says that my condition is degrading faster than she would like. Actually, faster than she thinks is something we can just deal with in terms of medication. Namjoon, the medication is definitely becoming less effective, and that’s a death sentence.”

There was a walkway up ahead, and a railing that ran alongside it, and Namjoon staggered to it. He seemed weak on his feet, and was shaking, and Seokjin truly believed he’d misjudged how serious Namjoon was taking the news. It was serious news, but there was also a silver lining. He just had to get to it before Namjoon passed out.

“I did not,” Namjoon breathed out in a rough way, “fight so hard to have you, just to let some shitty heart condition take you away from me.”

Seokjin rubbed a hand along Namjoon’s back. “From the start I always knew there’d come a time when the medication wouldn’t be as effective, and ultimately it might stop working completely.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon snapped out, “when you were eighty or something. After a full life. Preferably after I go first.”

Seokjin stopped rubbing and smacked Namjoon instead. It wasn’t a hard hit, and probably more of a playful one. But he understood the sentiment of Namjoon’s words.

“Listen to me,” Seokjin requested. “My goal was always to maintain my condition for as long as possible, and live a full life. My goal was to take my pills, and eat healthy, and do it all on my own.”

With one hand still on the railing, Namjoon used the other to pull Seokjin into a tight hug.

“It’s okay,” Seokjin assured. “The medication becoming ineffective isn’t even what I want to talk to you about.”

“No?”

“No,” Seokjin agreed. “It’s about the options I have now.”

It took some nudging, but Seokjin got Namjoon going again, and on steady feet.

“Minah and I decided that unless I want to just take my chances with going natural, and that will result in my death sooner than later, that I need and ICD.”

Namjoon stuttered to ask, “What’s an ICD?”

“Implantable cardioverter-defibrillator—I know that’s a mouthful, but just think of it as a device similar to a pacemaker. It’s a device that will help regulate the beats of my heart, and warn me if something catastrophic is going to happen—it’s even capable of getting my heart back on track for minor instances. It’s really the best option I have right, so I’ve agreed to the surgery.”

“Surgery,” Namjoon repeated, looking pale.

“August first.”

“That’s so soon!”

“I know,” Seokjin rushed to say. “But right now I’m kind of living on borrowed time. Minah switched some of my medication hoping for new effectiveness, but anything could go wrong at any time until I have the ICD. The sooner I get it, the better my chances of avoiding heart failure.”

“Okay, we have to stop.” Namjoon took them to a nearby bench, sat them down, and wrenched Seokjin’s hands into his own lap so he could squeeze them. “I’m seriously freaking out right now. What … this …”

“I’ll have the surgery,” Seokjin said gently, “and I’ll get that new lease on life. Minah has done this type of surgery many times, and while there is a risk associated with it—as there is with all surgeries, I trust her hands.”

“Risk?” Seokjin asked.

Seokjin winced a little and said, “Because my right ventricle is so thin, there’s always the chance that Minah might perforate it. Poke a hole in it, I mean. And that would be very bad.” Namjoon squeezed even tighter onto Seokjin’s hands. “But the surgery is worth the risk, considering the outcome. Namjoon, after the surgery, I’ll be able to do a lot more, and I won’t have the same health restrictions. I’ll still have to be careful in some ways, but I’ll have more of an allowance of things I can do.”

Seokjin could see the visible way Namjoon gave a gulp, and Namjoon’s hands were also very sweaty.

“If this ICD thing is so amazing, why haven’t you gotten it before now?” Namjoon wondered.

“A combination of things,” Seokjin admitted. A little embarrassed, he said, “Pride in a lot of ways.  I always promised myself I’d be able to manage my condition. I told myself I wasn’t going to be weak, I’d only be strong, and surgery was weakness.”

“That’s crazy,” Namjoon said.

“That’s delusional,” Seokjin laughed out. “I recognize that now. Surgery doesn’t make me weak. Anything I have to do to keep breathing, doesn’t make me weak.”

Namjoon hummed a little, and leaned over to kiss Seokjin’s forehead. “You should have gotten this thing put in right away.”

“I didn’t need it a year ago.” Seokjin looked up at the stars and took in their beauty. “A year ago my medication was working. And aside from the surgery having its risks, it’s also very pricy. I’m extremely lucky to be in a financial situation where I can afford it, because many people can’t. But even in that situation, it’s a lot of money.”

Namjoon’s fingers slid around the back of his neck in a soothing way, and Namjoon mumbled at him, “Nothing is too expensive to maintain your health. You’re worth every bit of money on this planet. Even if you didn’t have the money, I’d do anything to get it for you for this.”

The scary thing was, Seokjin absolutely believed him when he said that. Namjoon was the kind of man capable of doing something morally compromising, in order to provide.

With a long exhale, Namjoon said, “So you’re going to have the surgery. Okay. We can do this.”

It was adorable the way Namjoon was trying to deliver a pep talk, all the while he looked so unsteady himself.

“I didn’t want to tell you until the last possible second,” Seokjin admitted. “I wouldn’t have told you until the night before, if I could swing it, I think.”

Namjoon didn’t look happy as he asked, “Why? Why would you do that?”

The answer was as simple as Seokjin saying, “Because I think you have enough on your plate to deal with already. Because you already have a lot to worry about all the time.”

“And none of it is as important as you are,” Namjoon urged at him. “Nothing comes close to comparing to you.”

Seokjin couldn’t help leaning into Namjoon’s touch, feeling the fingers sliding up into his hair. He could smell the curry on Namjoon from that night’s meal, and just a hint of the aftershave he’d used that morning, and even if it was warm outside, Namjoon was warmer.

“I was scared,” Seokjin confessed, “that if I told you about this, that it would be all you thought about until the actual surgery, and that might put you in danger. You joke about wanting to go before me, but I refuse to be the reason you’re in danger.”

Fingers pressing through Seokjin’s hair, Namjoon said seriously, “Then I guess the only solution to that problem is to just go together, at the same time, like that old couple in the Titanic movie.”

Namjoon’s words made Seokjin burst out laughing as he reminded, “They drowned, Namjoon! They didn’t go quietly in their sleep.”

In a pleased way, Namjoon replied, “Beggers can’t be choosers, Jin.”

“Let’s choose not to die in a sinking boat.”

Namjoon nodded. “I think we can probably manage that.”

With some of the unease passing, Namjoon leaned back on the bench, and Seokjin leaned into him.  He felt Namjoon’s hand slid back from his hair and go around his shoulders to hold him in place, and they sat in silence for some time.

“Are you scared?” Namjoon asked after some time.

“A little,” Seokjin admitted. There was no point in lying. “I can’t decide if it’s because this is a big change, or the doctor in me just can’t stand the idea of someone else doing surgery on me other than me.”

“You can’t do surgery on yourself,” Namjoon pointed out incredulously.

“I didn’t say I was being rational.” But there was a lot of truth to the unease Seokjin felt about giving up control of his body to someone else. Even if it was Minah and he trusted her, and even if it was a necessary thing, his mind argued back that he was the one supposed to be opening people up. He wasn’t supposed to get opened up himself.

It truly was the relinquishing of control that was driving him batty.

“Are you going to be down a long time after the surgery?” Namjoon asked. People were passing by them, but all of them were preoccupied by their own lives, and that gave at least the illusion of privacy.

“Not really,” Seokjin said, and he was pleased about that. Any downtime was more than he wanted, but if there had to be, at least it wasn’t an atrocious amount. “I’ll spend a night in the hospital after the surgery, but get to go home the next day as long as all my numbers look good and there are no complications.”

Namjoon interjected, “We’ll spend a night in the hospital.”

A smile on his face, Seokjin continued, “And somewhere between a month to a month and a half later, I’ll be perfectly back to normal, but with a new lease on life.”

Wryly, Namjoon asked, “Easy as that?”

“I’ll be fine,” Seokjin said. He wasn’t sure if he was reassuring himself, or Namjoon, or the both of them. “Minah is a skilled, very impressive cardiologist, and her team will take care of me. and then when I get out, I know I’ll have you to take over.”

Seokjin was fully prepared to be smothered to death by Namjoon’s hovering.

At a mumble, Namjoon repeated, “August first.”

“Until then,” Seokjin said, “I’ll keep taking the new medication Minah prescribed, but I need to be a little extra careful. If I do anything that puts additional strain on my heart, Minah might need to reevaluate the surgery, which would push it back.” And that would cut his chances even further.

“Oh, so like you shouldn’t be getting into cars with people who potentially want to kill you?”

Seokjin didn’t take that bait.

He did turn towards Namjoon on the bench and say, “By the time I get out of surgery and spend some time recovering, our anniversary will be here. I think I’ll be just recovered enough to take full advantage of the day.”

“Full advantage?” Namjoon wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Seokjin.

“I meant that we could go somewhere,” Seokjin insisted. “Anywhere, actually. I know things are … difficult right now, so we can’t exactly fly to Japan for the weekend. But something would be nice. Anything, really.”

In a confident way that inspired confidence, Namjoon promised, “I’ve got it covered.”

Seokjin believed him, so there was no point in pushing the topic.

Instead, he said, “And after I get my ICD, and recover from it, I imagine that’ll be right around the time, should you be following my plan to leak information to specific people at specific times, that you’ll know who the traitor is.”

“Jin,” Namjoon warned.

“Don’t you Jin me,” Seokjin replied sharply.

“Then what do you expect me to say?” Namjoon cut back just as directly. “You are asking me to literally put you in the line of fire.”

“I’m asking you to end this.”

Namjoon said in a tense way, “Fine. Okay. You win.”

That … that wasn’t what Seokjin had been expecting. At least not right away. He’d been fairly confident he could eventually sway Namjoon, or at least guilt him into it.  But Namjoon had just given in so easily it was baffling. It felt wrong. It felt like …

“What’s the catch?”

Namjoon held his gaze in a level way as he said, “I’ll put you out there, dangle you like you mean nothing to me, and I’ll risk your life all under your conditions, but with just one of my own, too.”

Seokjin’s stomach was rumbling with unease. “What’s that?”

Namjoon didn’t flinch when he replied, “Jungkook has to stand there in the line of fire with you.”

Namjoon hadn’t shown anything resembling emotion when he’d spoken, but Seokjin felt like he was falling to pieces.

“No!” he practically thundered, getting to his feet and almost yelling, “Absolutely not!”

“That’s the deal,” Namjoon replied uncompromisingly.

“How dare you,” Seokjin seethed. “How dare you try and use my brother against me—to manipulate me.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” Namjoon leaned his elbows on his knees.

Seokjin argued, “You are. Because you know I’ll never allow him to be put in that situation. You know I’ll give into anything, to keep him safe. So what you’re doing is dirty, and underhanded, and I really thought you were better than that.”

More than being angry, Seokjin was hurt. Who was Namjoon to suggest such a thing? How could Namjoon be so callous and thoughtless? Jungkook was, and would always be, Seokjin’s greatest weakness. He made no attempt to deny it, and everyone knew how he could be manipulated by using Jungkook.

He’d just always thought Namjoon knew better. Was better.

“Jin,” Namjoon tried, standing, too.

“How can you hurt me like this?” Seokjin demanded.

“I’m not—”

“You’re supposed to love me.”

“Jin—”

“I can’t—”

“Jin!”

Namjoon reached out for him, steadying the both of them.

“What?” Seokjin demanded.

“Listen to me for a second,” Namjoon said quickly. “Disagree afterwards if you want, but listen to me.”

Seokjin went quiet. As angry as he was at Namjoon, he could give him that.

“This isn’t me being an asshole,” Namjoon insisted. “This is me looking at the situation you’re proposing, and finding one huge, glaring flaw.”

“Which is?” Seokjin asked, actually curious.

Namjoon seemed unburdened by Seokjin’s willingness to actually listen. He said, “After what happened with Dongwoo, Infinite knows you’ll never be alone again. They’ll never have an opportunity to corner you alone in some parking lot. They will never get their shot without one of us around to spoil their fun. And if you’re out taking a midnight walk by yourself, they’re going to smell what a trap that is from a mile away. They’re not stupid. They’ll know better.”

Roughly, Seokjin asked, “Where does Jungkook come into all of this?”

“He comes in,” Namjoon said, “because of his unique situation with you. He’s a member of my gang, and a part of my inner circle at that. But he’s also your brother. That means, more than the rest of us, he has a good reason to be hanging around you at all times of day and night. And if you wander out at night with just him, it won’t look suspicious. If you go somewhere with just him, it won’t look like a trap.”

“He’s still a member of Bangtan,” Seokjin reminded. “They’ll see him as protection. They won’t take the bait.”

Namjoon shrugged. “I think they will. I think you’re forgetting how long we’ve been in conflict with Infinite. Far longer than Jungkook has even known about Bangtan. He’s an inner circle member, yes, but he’s not nearly as prevalent and widely known out there as any one of the other members. Jungkook doesn’t have notoriety, and yes, I’ve done that on purpose. Yes, I’ve done that on purpose because he’s your brother. And yes, I know he’ll be pissed if he ever finds out about that. But it doesn’t change the facts. I’ve been holding him back, and keeping him out of view because I don’t want to put him in danger, and that makes him an unknown factor to Infinite.”

It made Jungkook, in a lot of ways, fly well under the radar.

Namjoon continued, “I think Infinite will look at Jungkook and they won’t see him as a threat. They’ll just see him as some kid, and they won’t pay him any mind. Even if Jungkook’s with you, if we bait them with you, I think they’ll still go for you.”

“How is this something you think is okay?”

Namjoon guided Seokjin back to the bench and sat them down, saying, “Because Jungkook isn’t just some kid. I know you’re worried about him, and you don’t want him in danger, and you think the worst is going to happen to him constantly. But Jin, he’s fully capable of protecting himself, and you. That’s why I want him there. Because Infinite with discount him as nothing but someone to roll over, but the second they go for you, he’s going to be able to keep them off you—and keep the both you safe, until we swoop in and catch them.”

“I don’t want him in danger,” Seokjin repeated, feeling a bit faint.

“I know,” Namjoon acknowledged. “But he’s the only person who can be there without tipping anyone off, and he’s also someone I trust to keep you alive for those couple of minutes when you’re going to be exposed. And make no mistake, once Infinite realizes they’ve been set up, one hundred percent of their focus is going to be in attempting to take you out with them. Jungkook is not a baby. He’s very capable, well trained, and skilled. There aren’t a lot of people I trust to keep you alive—but I trust him. So that’s it. You can still call me a heartless bastard if you want, but that’s the deal. He stands in the line of fire with you, to increase your odds of survival, or nothing happens.”

Seokjin didn’t … he didn’t know how to respond to that. When he’d just thought Namjoon was being an asshole, he had a million things on the tip of his tongue. But now that he understood Namjoon’s reasoning, and it was the good kind at that, what kind reply could he even begin to manage?

Namjoon hadn’t been wrong in any of the points he’d made, and if he was suggesting anyone but Jungkook, Seokjin would already be on board.

But it was Jungkook. It was Seokjin’s little brother, and every piece of him that was alive was screaming to shoot down what Namjoon was proposing.

Yet shooting it down, and calling it off, meant that the matter between Infinite and Bangtan was only going to be further dragged out. And the longer it was dragged out, the greater the odds grew that more people were going to be hurt and killed.

“Jin?” Namjoon asked worriedly.

“I …” Seokjin just felt numb now.

Gently, Namjoon said, “I can’t compromise on this, Jin, I know that hurts you, but I can’t compromise. Do you understand? The line in the sand is here, and I’m not stepping over it. No matter what.”

Shakily, Seokjin stood once more, needing to move, needing to think, needing just not to sit in one spot and have a panic attack.

Namjoon held his hand out to Seokjin. “Walk with me still?”

With shaking fingers, Seokjin reached out for him, maybe just instinctively.

“I need to think about this,” Seokjin said honestly. “You’re asking a lot—just of my sanity alone.”

“Of course.” Namjoon didn’t give the slightest hint that was planned to push Seokjin for an answer at all. “Just keep in mind that if we’re going to have a shot at getting this right, and we only have one chance, we need to start planting seeds now. If we wait too long, the opportunity will pass.”

“I’ll think quickly,” Seokjin promised in a somber tone.

It felt like a promise he shouldn’t have made, because he didn’t think he was strong enough to make the decision that likely needed to be made.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon mumbled as they walked along. “I didn’t mean to be a jerk to you and make you feel bad.”

“You’re not a jerk,” Seokjin said instantly, feeling nothing but guilty at the way he’d reacted. “If anything, I’m the jerk. I should have known better. You’d never use Jungkook against me like that. You aren’t that person.”

“No,” Namjoon agreed.

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin told him, keeping one hand gripping Namjoon’s, and using the other to come up and hold at the elbow. “I’m sorry and I love you.”

The beginning of a smile lit across Namjoon’s face as he said, “I love you more.”

Seokjin tried to return it, but the task felt monumental.

Then they walked the distance back to the Noodle House in absolute silence.


	38. Chapter Thiry-Eight

Wherever they were, Seokjin had never been there before. And for the sake of what they were going to talk about, Seokjin didn’t ask where they were. He’d simply gotten in the big SUV with Namjoon when it had pulled up to their apartment half an hour before midnight, and he hadn’t made a peep since they’d started driving.

They’d driven for well over half an hour, too. With no rhyme or reason to the streets they were turning down, the driver simply drove. And Namjoon sat in silence, too, clearing thinking about what was coming.

Only Yoongi had spoken, from the front passenger seat, and only when he’d gotten a good look at the uncertainty on Seokjin’s face.

“It’s in case we’re being followed,” Yoongi reassured. “We’re definitely going somewhere, I promise you. But if anyone is keeping tabs on us, we’ll spot them, and then throw them off. Everything is fine.”

Fine was such a relative term it was utterly pointless.

Silence had filled the car again after that, but Namjoon had reached out for his hand, and slotted their fingers, and that was reassurance enough for Seokjin.

This building that they were at now, though, Seokjin had no clue where it as located. After a while, he’d stopped trying to track where they were in the city, and the building hadn’t looked familiar when they’d gone in.

It might have been some kind of office space before, however, because there were desks and chairs scattered all over, and an abnormal number of outlets for electronic devices.

They’d gone up to the third floor of the building after getting out of the car, not stopping for anything, Namjoon pulling Seokjin along like he was afraid they’d be spotted by someone. And up on the third floor, almost the whole of Bangtan’s inner circle had been waiting.  The only one missing had been Jimin, but he’d only been a couple of minutes behind them.

“Is this level of security necessary?” Seokjin asked after he’d gotten seated in a chair. None of Namjoon’s other men had come up to the third floor with them, and the double doors they’d entered were now firmly shut and actually locked. But downstairs there were a half dozen men with heavy assault rifles. They were the kinds of guns Seokjin had never seen Namjoon’s people with before, and the sight of them terrified him.

Hand guns were one thing. Full assault rifles? How had Namjoon even gotten those?

“Yes,” Namjoon said simply. “Because if someone wanted to wipe out Bangtan, and get every important person, this would be the moment. If Infinite wanted to win the war, they could do it in a second.”

That wasn’t something Seokjin could argue with.

And even though he recognized the men with the guns, and he knew they were Namjoon’s most trusted, and some of them he was even friendly with, he didn’t want them or their guns around him.

“What’s the deal?” Jimin asked when he got there, slinking into a chair and giving Seokjin an odd look. “We have meetings like this often enough, but never with Jin.”

“Jin is here,” Namjoon told them, “because what we’re about to talk about is all about him. Or at least he’s going to be center stage. We can’t talk about this without him here.”

In an interested way, Jimin pressed, “Finally giving in and becoming one of us?”

“Hardly,” Seokjin told him. “Sorry to burst your bubble. No initiation tonight.”

Hoseok promised to Seokjin, “We totally don’t have those anymore. Not since we accidently broke one of our recruit’s arms. Never since then.”

Seokjin peered at Hoseok, trying to determine if he was being facetious, or actually telling the truth.

“It really was an accident,” Taehyung said with sincerity. “We apologized forever. Jin, you know we’re not the kind of gang that breaks arms just to prove a point. Not with our own guys.”

Seokjin told Namjoon, “I am not being comforted by anything I’m hearing.”

Cracking a smile, Namjoon said, “We didn’t even break his arm, Jin. He tripped and fell. We just took responsibility because it happened with us, and we’re a family. So what happens to one of us, happens to all of us.”

Now that … that was a bit of a comfort.

“Not too late to join,” Jimin insisted. “We’ll get you a cool nickname and everything.”

“You,” Seokjin said sharply, veering from Jimin to Jungkook, “don’t even think about it.”

Jungkook’s mouth fell open. “Why are you turning on me right now!”

“Because I think you’ve been too distracted over the past year to try on one of the fabulous nicknames I think you have stored up in that head of yours. And I want to keep it that way. You’re going by the name mom gave you, and that’s that. Bangtan is done hiding now, so you’re not going to start.”

If anything, it really came down to how little Seokjin thought they had left of their mother. They had pictures, and mementos of hers, but things she had personally designed for them? Intended for them? Gifted to them? They had their names, and names were important. Seokjin wasn’t going to let Jungkook run around calling himself Seagull, when their mother had personally named him.

“You go by Jin,” Jungkook grumbled.

“That is not that same and you know it,” Seokjin returned.

“Focus, okay? Focus.” Namjoon cut through the banter in a serious way. “Argue about names later. Right now we need to talk about something important.”

Yoongi took his cue and cleared his throat before telling them, “I think everyone in this room is fully aware now of the leak that exists.”

“It’s not us,” Jimin said forcefully. “It’s not anyone in this room, and I’ll fight you if you say otherwise.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “It’s not anyone in this room. If it was, they wouldn’t still be breathing.”

Yoongi’s tone was rather blasé, but Seokjin absolutely heard the seriousness in it. And he wasn’t joking around either. Seokjin firmly believed that if any one of Bangtan’s members had turned traitor, and endangered lives, and been a part of what had already gotten some people killed, that Yoongi would have taken care of them personally. Regardless of friendship or personal feelings.

“So what’s going on?” Hoseok asked.

Yoongi continued, “The leak is on Suho’s side. There are twelve people over there at the top, and that is a big number to try and contain. It won’t be easy to narrow down who the leaker is, other than we can rule Suho out.”

Namjoon interjected, “He won’t cooperate with us, either, if we try and approach him with this. He won’t be able to, because it will make him look weak. It will weaken his gang. And in some ways, because we’re aligned so closely, it could impact us negatively. So we’re not going that route.”

“We’re not sitting on this, are we?” Jungkook asked, concerned. “We literally can’t do anything right now with someone out there telling Infinite everything. And eventually we’re going to get killed because of it.”

“No, we’re not,” Namjoon said pointedly. He looked to Seokjin and told Jungkook, “because your brother has a plan.”

Skeptically, Jimin asked, “Are you sure you’re not joining Bangtan?”

Seokjin laughed a little. “I’m sure. I just looked at the situation and came up with something that you all would have eventually as well.”

It took more than a handful of minutes to explain what they had in mind, and Seokjin had to stop several times to answer questions or comment on remarks from the others.

But eventually he was able to say, “It’s a pretty routine tactic that is used to vet out liars and leakers. We’ll just start small, deliberately targeting people that seem like they could be complicit, and we widen the scope as we clear individuals.”

“Until,” Yoongi said, “we find the culprit.”

“And we will find out who it is,” Namjoon said, voice low and dangerous.

“Then what?”

Seokjin looked to Jimin as he spoke. “Then what?”

“Yeah?” Jimin looked at them like he expected more. “You can’t just lay out this elaborate plan to find out who’s our traitor, and then leave us hanging. We’re supposed to just march up to Suho with information that he’d got a traitor in his group, and hope he deals with the situation?”

“He will,” Namjoon said confidently, looking more certain than Seokjin felt. “He’ll have no choice. A traitor in his inner circle could kill his credibility with other gangs, make Exo an outcast, paint a target on them, and ruin any peace that might be possible. He’ll know that. But it’ll be up to us to provide unflinching proof, before he can do anything.”

Jimin seemed dissatisfied with what he’d heard.

“Look,” Yoongi told him. “We’re walking a fine line here. And the consequences mean death—for who is up in the air at this point. Don’t act like you don’t understand how this all works, Jimin. Suho is about to be in a very bad predicament no matter what happens, and that ripples out to us because we’re tied so closely to Exo. One wrong move could turn Exo against us, and we can’t take on Exo and Infinite at the same time. We can’t take on Exo right now.”

Jimin went quiet, and Taehyung put a hand on his knee in solidarity.

“We’re doing this,” Namjoon declared, “but we’re doing it right. We’re following Jin’s plan, and we’re not making mistakes. We have to coordinate this very carefully in order to catch our rat—and we have to catch them.”

A frown on his face, Jungkook asked, “Wait, tell me exactly how this is supposed to go down. We use a specific trickle of information to find a rat, and then just hand them over to Suho to take care of?”

Seokjin saw the look of enjoyment pass between Yoongi and Namjoon. It was there for only just a second, borderline smug, before Namjoon said, “The traitor is a huge concern. We can’t even think about putting Infinite down until we find out who’s making it impossible for us. But all of this isn’t leading just to catching that person. All of this is leading to us getting directly at the three main members of Infinite still prowling around.”

Jimin said knowingly, “Myungsoo is impossible to catch out in the open. And Hoya? He hasn’t been seen since he took a shot at Jin. Maybe Dongwoo is doable, because frankly he’s an idiot who likes to get ice cream in the middle of a war. But finding a rat doesn’t give us access to Myungsoo or Hoya.”

“It does if we use the rat to bait them into surfacing?” Yoongi responded.

Seokjin felt like that was his cue, so he stood and addressed them, “I don’t think any of you will dispute the fact that Infinite blames me for what happened. Right or wrong, rational or not, they do. Hoya would probably like to rip me to pieces with his bare hands for what I did to him personally.”

Jungkook beamed at him and said almost proudly, “You were so badass with him, Jin. So badass.”

Seokjin ruffled Jungkook’s hair a little with a grin and said, “I have no clue what’s going with Dongwoo. But Myungsoo and Hoya? They would very much like to have a shot at me, and they blame me.  They think I played them on purpose. They think I masterminded something. They absolutely believe I’m the reason Kim Sunggyu is dead.”

Namjoon wrung his fingers together in a nervous way that told Seokjin he was thinking of that night, and how close Seokjin had come to ending up as the one with the bullet in his brain.

Seokjin tried not to dwell on it himself, and instead pressed on, “So I say let’s use that to our advantage.”

There was something warry on Jungkook’s face. “How?”

“The rat,” Yoongi said simply. “We find out who it is, we feed them information about Jin, they pass it along to Myungsoo and Hoya, we lay the perfect trap, and we get them. We end this business with Infinite for good.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Jimin said snidely.

“Wait, wait,” Jungkook urged out, popping up to his feet. “I don’t like the sound of this. Jin? What does he mean by laying a trap?”

“I don’t like this either,” Taehyung said loudly. “It sounds like you want to dangle Jin in front of them and hope they bite.”

It must have taken something strong in Namjoon for him to say, “That’s exactly what we mean to do.”

It was as if chaos erupted in the room. Seokjin’s ears nearly hurt just from the sheer volume of people talking each other, sometimes shouting. Namjoon and Yoongi seemed like they were unmovable mountains on the subject, and Jimin and Jungkook looked personally offended.

“It’s okay,” Seokjin tried to tell them, mostly because Taehyung looked crestfallen, and Hoseok just seemed uneasy.

“This is a bad idea,” Hoseok told him. Seokjin nearly had to read his lips to hear over Jimin who was shouting at Yoongi.

Namjoon put two fingers in his mouth and gave a loud whistle that brought the room to silence.

At least for a second.

Jimin was quick to ask Namjoon in a ruthless way, “You’re supposed to love him. How can you put him in danger like this?”

“I made the call,” Seokjin insisted, drawing Jimin’s attention. “I decided the risk is worth it.”

“It’s worth your life?” Jimin demanded. “You think taking out Infinite is worth your life? Don’t be an idiot.”

“Watch yourself,” Namjoon snapped at him.

“Screw you,” Jimin fumed. “We’re not putting him out there like that to get mowed down.”

“Jin.” Jungkook pulled hard on his arm. “Tell me you’re not okay with this. Swear to me this isn’t what it sounds like.”

“Don’t you want this business to be done with?” Seokjin asked him gently. “Aren’t you tired of people dying, and living in fear, and not knowing what comes next? I think this is a good opportunity to end it all. I don’t know about you, but I want to have a normal life again. I want to stop looking over my shoulder. And it’s not like we’re running into this foolishly.”

“Sit down,” Namjoon ordered Jimin, and there was such ferocity in his tone that Jimin actually did.

Everyone did.

“Jin and I talked about this,” Namjoon said, sounding stressed. “I tried to talk him out of this, he tried to talk me into it. But we talked about it a lot. And we reached a compromise.”

For a while, days and days, Seokjin hadn’t thought that he could compromise. Not if it meant putting Jungkook into danger. Playing a part of doing something like that, went against who he was, and made him feel wretched.

But a lot of what Namjoon had said to him had resonated. He liked to coddle Jungkook and see him as his baby, but Jungkook wasn’t. Jungkook was going to be nineteen. And in the year that he’d been a part of Bangtan, he’d truly grown into a man. Seokjin had seen Jungkook handle himself in danger. Seokjin had seen Jungkook survive some of the worst things possible. And Jungkook was no easy target.

Mostly, he had to remind himself constantly, and for days, that Jungkook was an adult. Seokjin didn’t get to make choices for him. Seokjin didn’t get to treat him like he was a child. Seokjin had to believe in him, and trust him, and have faith.

And if it meant the end of Infinite, and a good shot at a safe future, then Seokjin needs to be less selfish.

“Everything, hopefully,” Seokjin told them all, looking from face to face, “will culminate in a setup of some kind. In a perfect world this is how it’ll play out. Let me explain.”

“Listen closely,” Yoongi told them.

Having ironed out the details with Namjoon several times already, Seokjin felt comfortable saying, “You all will find the leaker. You’ll find the traitor. Then you will very strategically tell him about a moment when I’ll be vulnerable. Of course we’ll be manufacturing this vulnerability, but it’ll have to look real, so there will be risk involved.

Jungkook looked like he was getting uppity again.

“I’ll go wandering out after dark, or something that Infinite won’t be able to resist. They’ll make a move, thinking they’ve hit the jackpot, and then the rest of you will drop the real surprise on them.”

“No,” Jimin insisted. “We can’t just let you go out there on your own.”

“I won’t be alone,” Seokjin said.

“No?” Jimin asked, creasing in his forehead of frustration and confusion.

Taehyung pipped up, “Infinite won’t make a move on you if any one of us is there with you. They won’t risk that.”

“Not you,” Seokjin agreed. “Not most of you.”

“Say what you mean,” Hoseok nearly pleaded.

Seokjin’s gaze turned to Jungkook and he said, “I know this probably pisses you off, but Infinite doesn’t really see you as a threat. And you have the benefit of being my brother. So if you were to be there with me, the night that I just happen to wander into a dark alley, I think they would make a move. And Namjoon agrees.”

“I do, too,” Yoongi added in.

Jungkook took deep, even breaths as he looked at Seokjin, and Seokjin desperate wished he could pin down what his brother was thinking.

A little worried, and a lot panicked, Seokjin made sure to say, “It’s completely okay for you to say no, of course. No one would make you be there with me. No one would make you put yourself on the line like that.”

“Jin,” Jungkook said quietly.

“Go ahead,” Seokjin said back, holding his breath.

With a pinched expression, Jungkook asked, “You’d let me be there? You’d let me stand next to you?”

Seokjin tried to give him a hopeful look. “Namjoon is always telling me to stop treating you like a baby. And he’s right. You might be my kid brother, but you’re not a kid. You’re an adult, and I need to stop trying to force you to do the things I want you to do. I need to accept the decisions you make. So if you want to be a member of Bangtan, and put yourself in harm’s way, I have to let that be.”

Would he prefer that Jungkook quit the whole gang business and simply go to college full time? Of course. But that wasn’t ever going to be a reality for Jungkook, and Seokjin needed to accept that. He couldn’t stop Jungkook from flinging himself into danger. He could only trust the people Jungkook had watching his back.

Careful of the delicate tension in the room, Namjoon said, “We figure Jin will be exposed for at least a couple of minutes between the time Infinite gets there, and we follow. A couple of minutes seems like nothing, but it takes half a second to steal a life.”

Certainly, Yoongi said, “Jungkook, Infinite won’t see you as the threat that the rest of us know you are. They’ll just think you’re some pushover. But we think you can be that buffer—that wall, between Seokjin and the second it would take to snuff out his life.”

Breathing out deeply, Seokjin concluded, “That’s the plan. Use the rat to set Infinite up, and then map everything out to the millisecond.” He told Jungkook, “And if you want to be there with me, to watch my back, then I want you there.”

Seokjin gave a sight grunt as Jungkook plowed into him with a full hug. He caught Jungkook awkwardly, but as always, it only took a second for the hug to feel right.

“I’ll protect you no matter what,” Jungkook promised him. “I won’t let Infinite touch a hair on your head.”

Seokjin took pleasure in reminding, “You’re the little brother.”

“Well, I don’t care,” Jungkook said back. “I get to be the one protecting you for once, and you’re gonna have to deal with it.”

Now that everything was laid out, Namjoon asked everyone else, “Any disagreements with the plan?” He said it to everyone, but his eyes lingered on Jimin.

Jimin admitted, “I still don’t like it.”

“But?”

“But,” Jimin allowed, “it might actually work.”

“It will work,” Jungkook said definitively.

Yoongi nodded. “I agree. Because we’re going to plan this within an inch, and then we’ll rehearse it so there are no mistakes.”

“Starting tonight?” Hoseok asked.

Once more, Yoongi nodded. “Now, let’s start with Suho’s inner circle and the most obvious suspects.”

Jimin said, “The Chinese members.”

“Racist,” Taehyung told him.

“Am not,” Jimin snapped back. “I think it’s legitimate to think they might be at the forefront. They’re not Korean. They’re liable to be less loyal. And Luhan? He’s my number one suspect. That guy knows everyone in an important position somewhere, apparently, and he’s too pretty.”

Seokjin laughed out, “You’re suspicious of him because he’s pretty?”

“In part!” Jimin defended.

Hoseok told Jimin, “Have you noticed you always have this issue with pretty people? First Jin, now Luhan? What’s with that? Do you have something repressed you want to tell us about?”

Jimin crossed his arms over his chest and glared.

“Focus,” Yoongi ordered. And surprisingly enough, they did.

It had been late when the meeting had started, and by the time it was one in the morning, there seemed to be no sign of it slowing down. But Seokjin needed to work in the morning, and as the conversation devolved into matters he had no knowledge of, his eyes started to get heavy.

Seokjin touched Namjoon’s elbow and asked, “Any chance I can take the car home to get some rest?”

“By yourself?” Namjoon asked, already looking like he was going to put up a fight.

Seokjin was just too tired for that sort of thing, so he proposed instead, “I’m going to go rest in the car, okay?”

Guilt flashed across Namjoon’s face. “I’m sorry this is running so late, or we started it like this.”

“It’s fine,” Seokjin told him. It really wasn’t that big of a deal, and he supposed it was all worth it if it meant getting the details hashed out. “I’ll be in the car.”

Namjoon promised, “I’ll wrap things up here quickly. Then we can go home.”

“Take your time,” Seokjin said, giving him a chaste kiss. “Get it right.”

He did go down to the car after that, and he tucked inside the spacious backseat with real privacy. Sitting in the backseat of the car felt like a protective bubble or safe space, and it was easy for him to sink into the soft seats and read up on something on his phone.

Naturally, he fell asleep at some point, and he only woke up when Namjoon was getting in the car.

“What time is it?” Seokjin asked sleepily as Namjoon sat properly, and then pulled Seokjin against him.

“Time for us to go home,” Namjoon replied. He smoothed back Seokjin’s hair and teased gently, “You have bed head, which is pretty amazing considering there’s no bed back here.”

“Keep teasing,” Seokjin said, leaning his head against Namjoon’s shoulder as the car started up, “and you won’t have bedhead for a long time. You’ll have couch head.”

“Your threats are empty,” Namjoon said in a quiet way, holding Seokjin close.

Seokjin only hummed, and tried his best not to drift off before they got back home.

In the morning, during the regular rush to get ready and out the door at a respectable time, Seokjin gulped down some tea as Namjoon told him from the doorway, “You know we have to tell the others about your surgery, right?”

Seokjin set his tea down as he said, “We just sprung on them this huge plan to take down Infinite. You really want to toss that onto the pile as well?”

“I don’t want to overwhelm anyone,” Namjoon admitted. “But August first isn’t that far away, and they need to be ready.”

Seokjin moved to do his tie quickly. He had a meeting scheduled that morning with a potential investor in the clinic, and he wanted to look his absolute best. He was certain he could sell the clinic on merit alone, but a package deal made the whole process easier. And it wasn’t as if the clinic was struggling, but an additional revenue in the clinic only meant good things.

“They’re the ones having the surgery?” Seokjin asked a little irritated, his fingers getting tangled up in the tie and forcing him to start over. He sighed and said, “Look, Namjoon, I agree we have to tell them. I have to tell Jungkook. But right this second isn’t good timing.”

Namjoon only said simply, “I know you think you’re sparing Jungkook some worry by not telling him right away, but he’ll only be angrier the longer you wait.”

With the tie on a moment later, Seokjin tried to finish his tea as he headed for his jacket laid over the back of a chair nearby.

“I’ll tell him,” Seokjin promised.

“This weekend?” Namjoon asked. “We’re going up to your father’s grave, yes?”

Seokjin slowed a bit and corrected gently, “The family plot.” His sister and mother’s remains would be up there, too. And the only difference now, from the last time Namjoon had been there, was that a third set of remains had been put to rest.  He reminded Namjoon in a certain way, “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I know it’s not the closest drive, and there are a million things going on right now. Especially right now.”

Namjoon drifted over smoothly, engulfing Seokjin in a hug as he said, “You tell me I don’t have to go see a family plot that’s going to be mine some day?”

Seokjin grinned. “I dare you to say that in front of my father’s remains up there.”

“No way,” Namjoon laughed out. “Even in death, he’s the scariest person I’ve ever known. Sunggyu should have known to be terrified of him. I’m not going to say anything about marrying you in front of him. I’ll probably end up haunted.”

“My father was never the overprotective type.”

“That’s what you think maybe,” Namjoon pointed out. “Don’t you remember telling me that I could maybe end up kidnapped in the middle of the night, stripped down into my underwear, and dumped into the Han River?”

Seokjin gave a happy laugh and kissed Namjoon’s mouth. “My father was naturally suspicious of people in general. He thought that people typically needed to be kept in line because the human nature is to cause chaos. It wasn’t some overprotective father thing he had going on. It was just his personality. And you were someone new coming into his life, who smelled like danger, and he didn’t like it.”

“See, you say that,” Namjoon replied, hands on Seokjin’s waist in a casual way, “but you never saw the way he looked at me. He might not have said anything to you, because that’s how he was, but he definitely had a protective father gig going on. He looked at me like I was this little hoodlum sweeping in to corrupt his son, and he wasn’t going to have it.”

“He liked you,” Seokjin said confidently, leaning into Namjoon’s embrace. “Trust me. You would have disappeared at some point in the night if he didn’t.”

Namjoon snuck in a kiss and said, “I hope I’m a fraction as scary to other people, as your dad was to me, when we have kids.”

“No dating for them then?”

“None,” Namjoon sworn. “They can be like you, dating a physics book.”

Seokjin’s tea was completely forgotten by the time he couldn’t help teasing, “You know I lost my virginity at seventeen, right? And it certainly wasn’t to a physics book.”

“Excuse me?” Namjoon demanded, mouth hanging open. “Sweet little innocent nerd Jin, who was going to college at seventeen, lost his virginity then?”

Languidly, Seokjin wrapped his arms around Namjoon’s neck and whispered to him, “That boyfriend who taught me how to drive? That’s not all he taught me.”

“No!” Namjoon wailed dramatically “I can’t hear this! I’m ruined!”

Namjoon let go of Seokjin to hunch over and Seokjin patted him on the back. “It’s okay, Namjoon. You’ll survive.”

“You learn something every day,” Namjoon wheezed out. “Some of it good, some of it bad, and some of it shakes your reality.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes and kissed the back of Namjoon’s head. “I have to get going or I’ll be late. I’ve got an important meeting in an hour with a prospective donator. I really want to fund some additional training for the staff, so I’d like that money.” He’d originally been thinking about some new equipment he could buy with funds from a donation, but ever since he’d spoken with Hongbin about the training workshops that took place in New York, that was at the forefront of where he wanted to place the money.

Namjoon trailed him to the door and suggested, “So we’ll tell Jungkook about your surgery when we go up to see your family?”

Seokjin had wanted to put off telling Jungkook for as long as possible, but Namjoon had been right about a lot of things as of late, so maybe that wasn’t the best thing he could do. And while Jungkook was likely to freak out initially, he was also capable of handling things maturely and like an adult. Seokjin had to trust that this was one of the things.

“Okay,” Seokjin agreed. “Can you handle telling the others? Obviously we don’t want to advertise this to most people, especially the kind who might try and take advantage, but I want the others to know once Jungkook does. They’re my friends.”

“Don’t worry.” Namjoon got to Seokjin’s bag before him, and then held it out for him to take. “Before we go up to see your family plot, I’ll tell them. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I always worry,” Seokjin said, as if it was his mantra. He took his bag, and accepted a final kiss from Namjoon, and then said, “Okay. I’m off.”

“Have a good day!” Namjoon called after him. And just for a second, with Seokjin blocking out all the terrible things happening around them at the moment, and all the drama, he could imagine it was just a normal day sometime in the future, with Namjoon seeing him off and Seokjin going to do his regular shift. It was the kind of normalcy that Seokjin dreamed about.

Seokjin just had concerns about how Namjoon would take returning to a life of normalcy. Bangtan was all he’d known for some time, and Seokjin didn’t think it would be easy for him to settle back into a slower and less dangerous kind of lifestyle.

Would Namjoon be content to just run the Noodle House? Would he want to take a more active role? Right now Namjoon had a manager running the restaurant fulltime, and Namjoon checked in a couple times a month to look at the books and sniff out anything suspicious.

But when Bangtan was a thing of the past, could Namjoon stand to be at the restaurant all day, nearly every day? Would he want to be in that kind of position, or would it drive him crazy?

Those were the types of questions that Namjoon would have to tackle eventually, and the decisions wouldn’t be easy. But there was also time for that, and Seokjin was in no desire to foist any of that worry on Namjoon.

Whatever Namjoon wanted to do after Bangtan wasn’t eating up his whole life, Seokjin just wanted him to be happy doing it.

“Morning,” Seokjin greeted when he unlocked the front door and came through the empty waiting room. Seokjin loved seeing his clinic full to capacity, but there was something equally as appealing about the calm before the storm.

Yoona, as always, waved to him and said back in a cheery way, “Good morning.”

Yoona wasn’t his personal secretary, but he’d learned long ago that if anything was going on in the clinic, she probably knew about it. And she’d probably gotten to the clinic half an hour earlier than him, so she’d already started going through the messages and notifications. So he asked her, “Anything I should know about right off the bat?”

Doors would open in a half hour, and there’d already been some people milling around outside, hoping to get in quick and early.

“Your meeting got pushed back forty-five minutes,” she said, catching Seokjin off guard. “Airport delay. So you can breathe a little before you have to impress.”

Seokjin was actually grateful for that.

“Also,” she added, “Samuel was scheduled for eight today, but he’ll be at least an hour late. He has his school uniform fitting today. I just moved him back an hour and a half on the schedule.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Seokjin called out, picking up his mail as he went along.

“You’d never survive without me, that’s for sure,” she agreed with a grin.

Seokjin wasn’t willing to test that anytime soon.

Mail in hand, Seokjin shifted through it as he walked along the empty hallways. There were a couple other staff in the building at the time, but none of them seemed particularly awake at the moment when he caught glimpses of them through cracked doors. Seokjin was mostly glad they didn’t stop to talk to him, as he wanted to remain focused on the meeting he had coming up.

Sitting at his desk, Seokjin sorted the mail quickly into priority piles, and then turned on his computer.

He’d gotten several emails read, responded to, and archived, when his mind started to drift a little. Answering mail wasn’t exactly engaging, and now Seokjin seemed to be unable to think about anything except where Namjoon might end up after the matter with Infinite was resolved.

Maybe it was nothing but a premature thought to be having. Seokjin was making a lot of assumptions about what would happen in the coming months, and potentially jinxing himself.

“You look like you swallowed something sour.”

At the sound of Jonghyun’s voice, Seokjin looked up. He questioned in return, “Is there a reason you brought Yebin with you to work today?”

The baby was resting comfortably on Jonghyun’s hip, chewing on a soft plush toy in a way that indicated she was absolutely teething.

Jonghyun hefted her a little higher for a better grip and said, “Key is coming to get her in less than an hour. He had an early morning meeting with some big shot designer, so I’m hanging onto her for a little bit. Considering he’s been smothering Yebin like she’s his one purpose in life, it’s nice to see that he might be going back to work, or at least doing something other than changing diapers.”

“Agreed,” Seokjin chuckled out.

“So what’s with the sour look on your face? And aren’t you supposed to be leaving for a meeting right now?”

“It got pushed by almost an hour, and I do not have a sour look on my face.” Seokjin sighed and admitted, “I’m just thinking about the future, and how uncertain it all is.”

Jonghyun allowed, “Okay, fair enough. I think I get that look on my face when I think about the future, too.” Jonghyun offered lightly, “Anything you want to talk about? You know I’m a pretty good listener.”

Jonghyun wasn’t just a good listener. Next to Jungkook, he was Seokjin’s best friend. And there wasn’t anything Seokjin didn’t trust him with.

“I’m good,” Seokjin said, “but thanks for offering. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” Jonghyun said easily. “You know where my office is.”

Yebin gave a fussy sound and Jonghyun was quick to sweep her away before she started crying and distracting Seokjin.

Whatever the future would end up being, Seokjin couldn’t say with any certainty. But he knew he and Namjoon could handle it, and they had great friends like Jonghyun there to support them. So no matter what, Seokjin wasn’t as scared as he could have been. And that was nice, because he was sure he’d had enough being scared to last a lifetime. Now he just wanted to be happy.


	39. Chapter Thirty-Nine

“Well?” Jimin asked, sounding far too interested. “Which one do you think it is? Do you think it’s one of them?”

“I really don’t like how excited you seem about this.”

Jimin gave a snort and swung towards Seokjin to say, “You’re telling me this isn’t exciting to you?”

“No,” Seokjin balked right away. “Potentially there is someone sitting in the next room that is slipping Infinite information about me and the rest of Bangtan, all with the singular goal of killing us in mind. I don’t think that’s exciting.”

He and Jimin were standing in the kitchen to the Noodle House, watching the flurry of activity in the restaurant through the pass-through window. The cooks in the kitchen were working at an impressive pace, and dishes were going out like clockwork. Seokjin was doing his best to stand out of the way, but he also didn’t want to leave the kitchen just yet.

Jimin apparently had to qualms about being in the way.

He told Seokjin, “I said exciting, not good. There’s nothing good about having a traitor. But it’s exciting.”

“Exciting because you get to rip their head off?”

Jimin arched an eyebrow and posed, “Aren’t you supposed to be a doctor or something? You know it’s practically impossible to physically rip a head off with bare hands.”

Seokjin pinched him.

“Look,” Jimin breathed out. “I think that there’s something exciting about what’s going on out there. It may not look like it, but right now Suga and Rap Mon are deliberately leading a potential little rat into a trap—one that might even be closed around them already.”

Looking through the window that food was passing though, Seokjin could just see the single backroom that the Noodle House had. Almost all of the dinning took place in the spacious front room that had tables packed into it. But there was a backroom that Namjoon set aside mostly for his grandparent’s old friends, so they could come and eat and talk and have privacy, away from the younger crowd that was starting to infiltrate the Noodle House’s clientele.

The door to that room was cracked now, and Seokjin could just make out Namjoon, Yoongi, Suho, and several of Suho’s men.

Seokjin gave a yawn and said, “I still don’t think there’s anything exciting about this. Exciting typically means good.”

Jimin’s head craned back a little and he asked in a worried way, “Are you okay?”

“I yawned,” Seokjin said simply with a grin on his face. “I was asleep twenty minutes ago.”

For the most part, the second level to the Noodle House remained vacant. Before the original building had burned down, and Namjoon’s grandparents had lost their lives, the second level had been a set of rooms that served as an apartment. A part of Seokjin had been surprised that Namjoon had even had that part of the building rebuilt. But he had, maybe out of a necessity to return the place to its original design.

Still, no grandparents meant that the apartment above remained empty for the most part. No one lived there, and there was minimal furniture.

But earlier in the day Seokjin had needed to take a crash nap, and it had been the perfect spot for that. There was a lumpy sofa in the upstairs apartment that pulled out into a bed, and despite how it seemed, the lumps were quite soft and comfortable. Seokjin had passed out right away, and slept for several hours while Namjoon looked the books over downstairs. It had worked out perfectly, because Exo was present now, and the dinner service was just starting.

“Yeah,” Jimin said slowly, face pinched with uncertainty, “but it’s like six at night. How can you be tired? Is it … your heart?”

Bangtan, at least the members who knew about his upcoming surgery, had been hovering for days. They’d been finding superfluous reasons to come by the clinic and stay for long periods of time. They’d been inviting him out to do things with them, but mostly to keep an eye on him. And if he so much as sneezed—or yawned apparently, they seemed to think he was in danger of passing out and needing an ambulance.

It was sweet in theory, their concern, but almost irritating in practice.

“Jimin,” Seokjin stated.

“What?” Jimin demanded in a flustered way. “You just spring some news on me that your heart is even worse than it’s supposed to be, and you’re getting this surgery, and you think I’m not going to freak out over that? Think again.”

Lowly, Seokjin mused, “At least you’re talking to me.”

Jimin knew what that was about in a second, and offered up, “He’s your brother. He’s not going to stay mad at you forever.”

No, Seokjin agreed, but it had been four days now since he’d told Jungkook about the upcoming surgery, and Jungkook was treating him as if he’d withheld information to hurt him. Seokjin had not. In fact, he’d been trying to do the opposite, and it had blown up spectacularly in his face.

And confessing the details about his surgery had almost ruined their trip out to see their family plot. Jungkook had started yelling, Seokjin had tried to talk him down, and Namjoon had gotten caught in the middle.

Now for four days Jungkook hadn’t said more than a couple of words to him, and every day that passed felt like a pull at his heart.

“He will get over it,” Jimin said more seriously. “The rest of us were mad you waited so long to tell us, too. But we got over it, and so will he.”

Seokjin tried to stay positive as he said, “I hope so. But Jungkook is my brother. I know he feels like I should have told him first.”

A great smelling bowl of noodles passed by, but Seokjin was still waking up, and he couldn’t muster up an appetite of any kind as he rubbed at his eyes.

“Seriously.” Jimin’s hand touched at his elbow. “Are you okay? Why are you sleepy?”

“It has nothing to do with my heart,” Seokjin said with a chuckle. “At least not directly. I’ve just been pretty stressed at work right now, trying to adjust the clinic for when I’ll be gone. I have surgeries that need to be rescheduled, I have to rebalance the hours to account for my absence, and I have a doctor to coming in to partially cover for me—so I’m worried about getting her familiar with the clinic and the patients.”

“And that makes you sleepy?”

Seokjin confessed, “I’m pulling longer hours than normal at the clinic, and sleeping less. I may also be spending an exorbitant amount of time studying up for the surgery I’m having.”

“Of course you are.” Jimin rolled his eyes.

Seokjin pressed on, “I similarly need to get caught up on some journals I’ve been meaning to read, and my paperwork is just piling up. Suffice to say, I’ve been trying to spend the past week doing too much, and sacrificing sleep for that.” There was no point in denying how little sleep he’d been getting, and how he’d taken advantage of Namjoon not noticing that because Namjoon had been doing the same.

“You’re supposed to be smart,” Jimin reminded. “Aren’t you the one always nagging on people about sleep deprivation?”

Seokjin looked back to where he could see Namjoon through the doorway. “I would be at home sleeping right now, except this is the last day off I get for a while. And when Namjoon had time for me earlier, I wanted to spend it with him. We had lunch here, and enjoyed each other’s company, and then when I got a little too sleepy, he offered the sofa upstairs.”

Namjoon looked like he was all business now, chatting with Suho about something. He seemed so different from the carefree way he’d been smiling at Seokjin even a couple of hours previous. There was nothing kind or gentle about the way Namjoon looked now.

“Oh,” Jimin said. “You want to go lay back down?”

“No.” Seokjin shook his head. “I’m good for now. I’ll go to bed early if I can. But I need to run a couple of important errands.” With a sigh, he admitted, “I wanted to say goodbye to Namjoon before I left, but I don’t particularly want to go in there.”

“I don’t blame you,” Jimin said.

Because someone in there could be the traitor, and Seokjin wanted to keep far, far away from that.

He was curious enough to ask, “Why aren’t you in there with them?”

Jimin shrugged. “We gotta be extra careful right now, especially with what we’re doing.” He was choosing his words cautiously, just in case they were overheard. Though Seokjin was absolutely sure that there wasn’t anyone in the kitchen right now who wouldn’t go to their death before giving up anything on Namjoon. Everyone in that kitchen right now, all of the workers, had known about what Namjoon did from the start, and had been loyal to him and his grandparents, and had constantly put themselves in danger—especially after the fire, in order to simply not give in to Infinite’s threats.

Seokjin wasn’t worried about the cooks deciding to sell out. But he also understood how careful Jimin was simply by nature.

“And you think you being in there might pressure Suho in some way? Or tip him off.”

“Maybe,” Jimin agreed. “It’s supposed to be a check-in between the two of them. Suga’s enough for that. Start bringing in other people and it could get suspicious. Suspicious could get people killed.”

People like Seokjin?

“I’m just here running security,” Jimin said. He grumbled out a little, “Rap Mon always gets a little irritable when we bring Bangtan’s business to the Noodle House. He wants to make sure none of the guests are ever in any danger.”

Seokjin grinned. “Were you here the time Namjoon did it before?”

“Did what?”

“Brought work to the Noodle House.”

Jimin’s eyes grew bit. “No.”

“He did,” Seokjin insisted. “I was here, cooking with his grandmother in the kitchen. He tried to tell her he had to, that it was a matter of security, and she chased him out with a spatula, and hit him so hard his skin was black and blue for a week.”

Jimin burst out laughing so hard that he bent over, trying to hold himself up using the nearby countertop.

Seokjin said, “Namjoon can do what he wants now that he owns the place. But back then? Back then his grandmother wrote the law.”

Though with how little Namjoon did business at the Noodle House, Seokjin was willing to wager that most of his grandmother’s influence lingered in that department.

“Sooo,” Jimin drawled out. His voice pitched down low. “You think it’s one of them?”

Seokjin’s eyes drifted from Namjoon and Yoongi, past Suho, to where Luhan, Baekyeol and Xiumin were seated.

“I don’t think there’s any way to determine that just looking at them.”

Jimin pressed in close, their shoulders bumping. He said, “I’m still pegging the Chinese guy.”

“Because he’s pretty?” Seokjin teased.

“No.” Jimin’s face seemed tinted red suddenly. “Because he’s the type.”

“The type?”

“Yeah,” Jimin pressed on. “And I guess his face does have something to do with it. When you’re that attractive, people naturally want you around, and tell you stuff. But he also speaks multiple languages, seems to know far too many important people, and haven’t you noticed the way Suho is invested in him? Suho likes to know what his opinion is, and takes his advice, and obviously trusts him. If you ask me, Suho’s a little too invested in him. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were—”

“Not them,” Seokjin interjected. He nodded in the group’s direction. “Take another look. It’s not Suho and Luhan who are involved.”

It was a sight mostly obscured by the placement of people in the room, and the limited visibility into the room, but Seokjin could see Luhan just fine.

“What are you taking about? There’s no way Luhan has that much pull over Suho if they’re not sleeping together.”

“Look,” Seokjin urged.

“Oh,” Jimin breathed out.

“I think Suho just has some sort of history with Luhan. That’s all. Because Luhan is most definitely in a relationship with Xiumin.”

Seokjin could see the way they were holding hands, the sight mostly shielded by the table. And there was something to be said for their body language, the way they were angled towards each other, and most importantly, how they looked at each other. Seokjin knew what people in love looked like.

Grumbling a little, Jimin said, “That doesn’t make Luhan not the traitor.”

“Of course not,” Seokjin agreed. “But I don’t buy your theory that Luhan got into a relationship with Suho to learn his secrets and sell us all out. There are too many variables there. Too many unaccounted things. He’d have to be precognitive, to anticipate all of the things happening with Infinite and Bangtan and Exo, for it to be worth the risk.”

Jimin questioned, “So if you don’t think it’s Luhan, who do you think it is?”

Once more, Seokjin told him, “I honestly don’t know. I can’t begin to make that kind of accusation, and I don’t want to.” He nudged Jimin with his elbow. “That’s up to you guys to figure out and be certain about before I put myself in the line of fire.”

Looking cross all of the sudden, Jimin told him, “I still don’t like that. And if I come up with a better plan between now and then, we’re going with it.”

“Glady,” Seokjin laughed out. “If you can minimize the risk any further, I’ll take it. But some risks are worth taking, Jimin. And I trust you all with my life. I trust you.”

“Don’t,” Jimin ordered sharply.

“Don’t what?”

“Say mushy shit like that.” Jimin rubbed a hand across his forehead. “How do other people put up with you all the time? Are you gonna start talking about kittens and rainbows and unicorns next?”

“Better than being a pessimistic rain cloud all the time, Park Jimin.” Seokjin gave him a final nudge and then said, “I’m going to head out, okay?”

“Out?”

“I need to pick some things up from my father’s apartment. Important things.”

Uncertainty lacing his voice, Jimin asked, “Don’t you hate that place? Jungkook says you never go there.”

“I don’t hate it.” Seokjin just felt rather like he was haunted by the memories of his father he had there.

“Your face says otherwise.”

“I don’t, I promise.” That wasn’t a lie, and he hoped Jimin believed him. “But you know as well as I do that some places can have heavy memories attached. The kinds of memories that overwhelm. Those are the memories, good or bad, that are the hardest to handle.”

Jimin pursed his lips together in obvious thought.

“Tell Namjoon I said goodbye for me when you get the chance, will you?” Seokjin started for the door.

“You’re not going alone, right?” Jimin called after him. “You know the deal.”

Seokjin waved him off. “It’s taken care of.” He’d already let a couple of Namjoon’s higher ranked men know exactly where he was going to be. He wasn’t asking for permission to go wherever he wanted, but he understood the importance of keeping everyone informed. He wanted to bait Infinite into making a move against him eventually, but he didn’t want to do it prematurely.

Seokjin exited the Noodle House quickly, bypassing a couple of college looking guys stumbling their way in, already talking about the food they wanted to eat. Seokjin had parked down the street about a block, and was headed directly there when he almost collided with another person.

Jungkook. He almost collided with Jungkook.

Seokjin narrowly missed him, swerving to the side, and it was a reflection of who his brother was as a person, that he was apologizing before he even realized it was Seokjin he’d run into.

“Jungkook,” Seokjin said, reaching out to steady him

Jungkook pulled back, and that felt like a crushing blow.

“Jungkook,” Seokjin started again. “I know you’re mad at me, but I—”

“Mad?” Jungkook said with a glare. “No, I’m not mad.”

“You look mad.”

Jungkook shook his head and took a firm step back from Seokjin. He insisted, “I’m not mad. I’m just trying to deal with the fact that my big brother hid something so important from me.”

“I didn’t want to freak you out,” Seokjin told him. “I didn’t want to worry you. It’s not that I didn’t trust you.”

His hands going up defensively, Jungkook shook his head and said, “I really don’t want to talk to you about this right now.”

“You don’t seem to want to talk to me at all,” Seokjin challenged.

There had been instances, naturally, over the years in which he and Jungkook had fought. There’d been plenty of times that they hadn’t spoken to each other for a time, or there’d been terrible tension between them. But this? This felt different.

“Maybe I am mad,” Jungkook snapped out. “Because every time I look at you, I get mad.”

With the car keys palmed in his hand, Seokjin pushed down the hurt that was welling up inside of him. And quietly, he said, “I never meant to hurt you, Jungkook. I think you know that something like that would never be my intention. I love you. You’re my brother. You’re the most important person to me in the world.”

“None of what you’re saying to me matters.” Jungkook accused, “You didn’t hold off on telling me because you thought I’d be hurt. You waited because you were selfish and wanted to keep the status quo. Don’t lie to me, Jin. Don’t tell me otherwise.”

Ultimately, Seokjin thought the truth was somewhere closer to the middle of it all. But he knew what it looked like from Jungkook’s perspective. And Seokjin wasn’t willing to aggravate him or instigate an even bigger fight.

“Any chance we can go somewhere and talk?” Seokjin asked, feeling air catch in his chest. “I think we should talk about this. I want to talk about this with you.”

He could see the answer on Jungkook’s face before he even spoke and said, “I can barely stand to be next to you right now. I can’t go somewhere and talk to you. You lied to me. You did something that you swore you never would. And maybe to some people I’m making a big, unnecessary deal out of this. Maybe to a lot of people it’s nothing. But to me, this is everything. Because before this I always knew that no matter what, my brother wouldn’t keep something so important from me. I could always boast that my brother told me everything. But now I just look like a fool, and I feel like one too.”

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin said. Sorry suddenly didn’t feel like enough, but it was all he could say at the moment. He’d never wanted to hurt Jungkook in such a way. He’d never wanted to hurt his brother at all. He’d held off because he was afraid of that happening, and he’d ended up just making it worse.

“I have to go.” Jungkook thrust his hands into his pockets and took off towards the front door of the Noodle House.

Seokjin wanted to chase after him. He wanted to catch Jungkook around the shoulders and hold him in place until he was willing to listen to Seokjin, and understand, and forgive.

But Jungkook wasn’t someone who responded well to that sort of thing. Jungkook couldn’t be forced or coerced. He needed time to reason things out, and come to his own conclusions. Jungkook needed time to stew.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” he said once more, even after Jungkook had long since gone.

Had he been wrong in putting it off for so long and hiding the information from Jungkook? Or had there been no way to win the situation no matter what? Seokjin just didn’t know.

The sun was still high in the sky when he reached his car, despite it being just after six now, because of the time of year. Seokjin was actually thankful of the time of year. In another six months it would be dark by six, and Seokjin certainly wasn’t afraid of the dark, but he also knew what could be lurking in it.

He gave a wave to some of Namjoon’s men nearby, got in the car, and turned on the air. Then it was a quick drive over to his father’s apartment, and an additional fifteen minutes waiting in the car, in the underground parking garage, trying to force himself to get out and go up.

He’d believed, maybe naively, that coming back to the apartment multiple times would get easier as he went along. He’d thought that maybe his skin would toughen, or the suffocating feeling would pass. But as he entered the apartment and turned on the lights, it felt just as rough as it had the first time.

Per the typical routine, he got the apartment opened up and aired out, popping windows and pushing back curtains. He did a quick check of the furniture and decorations to make sure that it was all being dusted and fluffed, and when he was satisfied that nothing was out of place, he started down the hallway to the rooms.

Seokjin’s door was cracked open. Typically, the housekeeper who maintained the apartment shut everything behind her like she was blocking off sections in a sinking ship, but it looked like the latch had caught at the last second on the door and popped open.

Nothing was disturbed in the room, and it smelled nice when he stuck his head in. But just the motion of going into the room took something out of him.

“Hi, mom,” he greeted in a quiet way. The house was so silent, however, that it felt like he was shouting. He moved further into the room and picked up the silver framed photograph that he’d been speaking to.

Seokjin had never been one for decorating heavily, or cluttering up a space with much of anything. He wasn’t exactly a minimalist, but he liked structure and order too much to scatter items about.

But there was one item that had been on his desk since he’d been old enough to sit at it, and as much as he’d wanted to take it when he’d moved out, it felt like it belonged there.

It was a simple picture, really, but one that Seokjin thought was one of his most precious possessions.

His father had snapped the photo, actually, back when he’d been young and a lot more fun, and had hobbies—before life and work had consumed him. It was a simple shot, but a wonderfully balanced composite of Seokjin’s mother on the day she’d given birth to him. She’d labored for twenty hours in the hospital to give birth to him, and because it had proven so dangerous for her, his was the last natural birth she’d had.

So his mother was there, in the picture, sitting in her hospital bed. She looked a little unkept, with hair out of place, no makeup, and a very unflattering hospital gown covering her. But that was ultimately what made her look breath takingly gorgeous. That and the smile on her face as she held baby Seokjin, almost holding him up for the world to see, pride and accomplishment on her face as he was cradled protectively

Seokjin ran a finger over her photo. She’d been so young back there. There were no signs of aging on her face, no lines of stress, and no hint that she wouldn’t live long enough to have any of that.

She was just so, so pretty. Seokjin saw a lot of his own features in her face, but she was pretty mostly because she smiled candidly and seemed unconcerned with her state in the photo, and beamed like the world finally had purpose.

“I miss you,” he told the photo. Every day he forgot her a little more. Every day she became less real to him.

He wanted to take the picture more now than he ever had. He wanted to take it back to his apartment with Namjoon, or to his office at the clinic, and he wanted it in a place where he could look at his mother’s face every day.

It was just … he’d always been hyperaware of how little Jungkook remembered their mother. And he’d always been careful not to walk a line of flaunting in any way. Jungkook was jealous ultimately, even if he found it hard to admit most of the time, that he’d had almost no time with her. So Seokjin didn’t want to put too many pictures in too many places that reminded him of that fact.

“Not today,” he said, putting the picture back down. It went back on the desk, exactly into the place it was supposed to go, and for now, Seokjin left it behind.

There would be a day when he’d want pictures like that scattered around his house for his own children to see and ask questions about. But right now didn’t seem the right time.

He left his bedroom after that, and shut the door firmly behind him, and put the picture from his mind.

Then it was straight on to his father’s room, and to the items he’d come over for.

The last time he’d been digging around in his father’s closet it was for a couple of specific items, but now he was looking for significantly more.

From the meticulously stored closet, he started pulling out crates of items, digging through everything that had been filed, and collected the necessary information.

His stomach rumbled a little by the time he was roughly halfway through. The bedroom looked like an absolute war zone, and his father probably would have had a stroke at the sight of it, but for as organized as his father was, finding the right things was proving to be difficult. There was a lot more to collect than he’d first anticipated, and even after he’d piled some stuff into an empty box, he was starting to worry about how heavy it was going to end up being.

“Come on, dad,” he said with a huff, fingering past a collection of birth announcements and medical paperwork. “The one time you’re sentimental is the one time I don’t need you to be.” He needed Jungkook’s birth certificate, not certification that he’d been vaccinated.

The mild rumble in his stomach soon grew into something more voracious, and by the time the sun was setting in the distance, Seokjin had to call it quits for the day. He stacked a final set of files into the box he’d designated for carrying, and fitted a top on it.

He’d tried to put everything he wasn’t taking back into the closet in at least a way that slightly resembled what his father had managed, but Seokjin felt like he hadn’t even gotten close. Still, the closet door closed when he tried it, and once it was closed, the room looked absolutely normal. So that felt like a victory.

Seokjin gave a grunt of discomfort when he lifted the box full of paper. It was even heavier than he’d expected, and it winded him in a way that reminded him right away of how out of shape he was. He truly was looking forward to building some kind of endurance up once he had his surgery, and hopefully developing some muscle.

He was never going to be overly buff, or even up to Jungkook’s current stature. But any kind of bulk that was the healthy kind, was something to be excited over.

Seokjin fumbled the box a little as he tried to close the door to his father’s bedroom. It felt important to close that part of the apartment off, even if no one was around to see inside the room. But the box was impossibly heavy, and Seokjin felt his grip on it slipping.

“What are you doing?”

Seokjin dropped the box as he startled, whipping around to stare at Jungkook who was standing behind him. Seokjin lost his balance, too, put his hand out for the wall, and nearly slid down it.

“Jin!”

Jungkook sprung forward, catching him as he tilted a little too much, and he got Seokjin back up on his feet.

“Thanks,” Seokjin breathed out, righting himself.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook demanded, keeping a strong hold on Seokjin’s arm. “Jin?”

“I’m fine,” Seokjin promised. Then he felt the reality of what was happening in front of him catch up, and he was stunned that Jungkook was even there. “You … you’re here.”

“So are you,” Jungkook said. Then he bent down to turn the box right-side up and put the contents that had fallen out, back in. When the lid was back on, Jungkook gave it a testing heft before lifting it into his own arms, and he demanded, “Damnit, Jin. Why are you carrying something this heavy? You realize this counts as physical exertion, right?”

Seokjin pushed back his bangs and said, “I was only taking it down to the car.”

“Well, this thing weighs like a hundred pounds, so don’t even think about it. I’ll carry it.”

Frowning, Seokjin asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Jimin dropped me off.”

That didn’t answer Seokjin’s question. Not nearly.

Jungkook seemed to realize that because he gave a heavy sigh and added, “Jimin said it looked like you were leaving all on your own. That’s not safe, so I’m here.”

Seokjin pointed out, “Namjoon knew I was coming here. I cleared it with him. And the right people not only saw me leave, but are down stairs, across the street, and probably watching for my exit as we speak. You would have known this already, Jungkook. So why are you really here?”

He was practically holding his breath, waiting for the answer. Because only hours earlier Jungkook had shouldered his way past Seokjin and had only angry words for him.

But here was here now, in their father’s home, and he wasn’t looking at Seokjin with anything but guarded worry.

When Jungkook didn’t answer right away, Seokjin tried to reach for the box, only to have Jungkook jerk it away and snap out, “I said I’ll carry it.”

“Jungkook.” Seokjin shook his head slowly. “If you’re here because you’re worried, you don’t have to be. I’m being careful, I’m leaving now, and I’m heading back home. You can carry that down to the car if you want, but you don’t need to—”

Jungkook interrupted, “What are you doing with dad’s stuff?”

Seokjin started towards the front door, Jungkook trailing after him, and said, “I’m meeting with dad’s lawyer in a couple of days, and I need everything in that box. I probably need stuff I couldn’t find. But it’ll have to do for now.”

The frown on Jungkook’s face deepened. “You’re meeting with dad’s lawyer? Why? What’s going on?”

No matter what his intentions with Jungkook had been, ultimately, he’d hurt his brother by keeping information back from him. And that wasn’t a mistake he was going to make again.

“Because,” Seokjin said slowly, turning so Jungkook could hear him directly, “I’m having that surgery soon. And there are some notable risks concerning it.”

Jungkook went pale and paused. “Risks?”

“Risks,” Seokjin reminded kindly. “Because of how fast my condition has degraded, I’ve got increased risks. Minah is very good at this kind of surgery, but some things may be out of her control, and I have to be prepared for the worst-case scenario.”

 Jungkook was the one who dropped the box then. “Jin.”

Even if Jungkook didn’t want it, even if Seokjin was going to hear a mouthful from him for it—considering the tension between them at the moment, Seokjin didn’t care. He reached out and tugged Jungkook into a firm hug, palming at the back of his head protectively.

“It’s surgery, Jungkook. I could die. So I need to make sure that if the worst happens, that you and the clinic will be taken care of.”

For all the doubting that he’d just done, Seokjin felt Jungkook hug him back in a fierce way.

“You are not going to …” Jungkook trailed off.

Seokjin pressed on, scratching at Jungkook’s scalp gently, “Dad left behind a lot of money, a lot of property, and a lot of collateral. It’s a top priority for me to make sure it ends up in your hands, and no one takes advantage of you.”

“I don’t give a fuck about money,” Jungkook said harshly, his breathing ragged now, and thin, and on the verge of something that sounded like a panic attack.

“Language.” Seokjin tapped the back of his head. “I also want to know that my clinic is protected. So I need to start the paperwork to give control to Jonghyun if something happens to me.”

“Jin,” Jungkook warned.

Seokjin pulled him back so that Jungkook was nearly at arm’s length, and he told Jungkook sharply, “You want me to be upfront and honest with you? This is the truth: no matter how good Minah is, complications are an inevitability sometimes. Even the best surgeons make mistakes, and even the healthiest patients can die. That is the truth of this situation, and you need to accept that like I have. I have no plans on checking out early and depriving you of a lifetime of nagging, but if it does happen, I’m not leaving anything that comes after, to chance.”

“Jin.” Jungkook’s jaw trembled. “I lost mom. I lost dad. I can’t lose you. I can’t …”

“You won’t.” Seokjin wrapped him up again, practically suffocating him. It was a terrible thing to say, because it wasn’t the kind of promise that Seokjin had any kind of control over. But he was done with Jungkook being hurt. He was done with being the one to hurt Jungkook. “I’ll be just fine.”

“You’ve got papers for if you die!”

Seokjin shushed him. “You know me. I’m always thinking twelve steps ahead. This is just me being careful, Jungkook. That’s all.”

Jungkook’s shoulders trembled, and Seokjin stood there, holding him for as long as he needed.

“Why’d you come over here?” Seokjin asked after some time had passed. His stomach had stopped rumbling, thankfully, because that would have ruined the moment unfolding between them, but he was still ready to eat. And yet he felt like he could give up food for a million years if it meant just having Jungkook next to him.

“Jimin,” Jungkook said, palming at his eyes.

“I asked why, not how.”

“No,” Jungkook insisted. “Jimin. He told me I was being an asshole. He took one look at me and said I was an asshole.”

Seokjin corrected right away, “You’re not that.”

Jungkook shrugged. “He saw us on the street. He knew I was being an assh—a jerk to you. He knew I was the reason you were so upset. So he told me I could either be that person, the terrible person who makes his brother feel that way, or I could stuck it up and come talk to you.”

Seokjin chuckled out, “Good choice.”

“I didn’t believe him when he said you were coming here.”

Seokjin nodded down to the box on the floor. Thankfully it hadn’t spilled open when Jungkook had dropped it. “I just came for that.”

“For dad’s financial records,” Jungkook said almost sourly.

Seokjin supposed, “Mine, now. And yours.”

Jungkook waved him off. “All yours.”

Jungkook really did seem a rare breed, in the grand scheme of things. Seokjin knew from experience that people could be greedy and selfish. They could steal and lie. But here was Seokjin’s brother, not even mildly interested in an exorbitant amount of money. The amount of money that some people might kill for.

“I’m putting it all in your name,” Seokjin said bluntly. “If anything goes wrong—and yes, we have to talk about this no matter what face you make at me, then I need to know that everything mom and dad worked for, ends up in the right hands.” Kindlier, he said, “Some of this is mom’s money, too. She was making good money at the publishing house before she died. At least one of the properties we own came from her. And I will not see anyone else have something that was mom’s.”

At least that seemed to be something Jungkook agreed with.

“What’s … um … what’s the … the …” Jungkook stumbled over his words before finally saying, “What’s the fatality rate? Of this kind of surgery?”

“Mortality rate,” Seokjin corrected with a grin. “Fatality rate makes it sound like something out of that game you used to play growing up.”

A big grin split on Jungkook’s face. “Mortal Combat.”

“It’s reasonable,” Seokjin said, leaving a loose arm around Jungkook’s shoulders as contact between them. “Better than you’re thinking in your mind right now. I have very good odds, Minah is a very good surgeon, and I’m going into the surgery as heathy as possible. Jungkook, just because I’m preparing for the worst, doesn’t mean I expect it to happen. Frankly, I should have updated my will a long time ago, especially after I inherited a lot from dad.”

Still looking unsteady on his feet, Jungkook said, “I don’t want to be responsible for all that. I can’t be like you are, Jin. I’m not …”

“Not what?” Seokjin asked, ready to defend Jungkook from any negative thoughts he had about himself.

“I’m not you,” Jungkook said simply.

Seokjin said, “I promise, nothing is going to change for you. Jonghyun will handle the clinic. And you? You can keep living the life you want, as long as you live it well.”

Jungkook gave him an incredulous look and shrugged his arm off. “Are you serious? You’ll be dead! Everything will have changed!”

Standing there, breathing sharply, Jungkook looked murderous, but mainly at the idea of more loss, and not at Seokjin himself.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you at first,” Seokjin said, finally saying the words he’d been meaning to get out. “I didn’t hide what was happening because I didn’t trust you, or because I wanted to, or because I thought you couldn’t handle it. And yes, I guess in a way, I was being selfish, because I knew it would be easier to just wait. But I never wanted to hurt you, Jungkook. I didn’t say anything because I wanted to avoid hurting you. I didn’t tell you the truth because I was worried about you being distracted, and your schoolwork suffering, or your attention slipping with Bangtan, and I couldn’t be the person who did that to you.”

Jungkook didn’t reply. He simply stood there, watching Seokjin.

“I am sorry,” Seokjin continued. “Truly sorry. I made a mistake, Jungkook, but I made it for the right reasons.  I don’t think that absolves me of guilt, but I want you to understand, my number one goal was always to prevent you from getting hurt in any way.”

Jungkook’s fingers curled into fists and he asked in a surprisingly calm way, “Why did you think I couldn’t take it? I know I’m younger than you, and less serious, and I guess I haven’t proven myself in any way yet—as an adult, I mean. But I can take that sort of thing.”

“Of course you can,” Seokjin said, framing Jungkook’s face with a hand. “I just didn’t want you to have to. I’m … I guess I’m starting to realize these days that you’re an adult. You’re not my kid brother anymore.  You’re not a baby. You’re a strong, capable person. You’re a man.  That’s not something I’ve seen you as before, and I’m struggling to accept that. This? What I kept from you? That was me trying to cling to the notion that you should be shielded and protected from things, still.”

Jungkook’s hand reached up to curl around Seokjin’s wrist, and he said honestly, “I love you, Jin. You’re my brother. You’re always going to be my big brother. But I need you to be honest with me now more than I need you to be my big brother.”

“Liar,” Seokjin teased, “you’ll always need me to be your big brother. Who else will keep you alive?”

A smile cracked on Jungkook’s face. “Okay. Fair enough. But Jin?”

“Hm?”

Jungkook swallowed hard before saying, “If you really think of me as a man now, you have to let me shoulder some burdens, too. You have to let me prove I can take the weight, even if it hurts.”

Jungkook … Jungkook was absolutely a man now. It felt like one thing to say it, and another thing completely to feel it. And Seokjin absolutely felt it now. Jungkook was still young, inexperienced, and in need of a few more life lessons before he was through. But all in all? Jungkook was no child now. He was no teenager. He was an adult.

“What?” Jungkook asked. He suddenly looked worried. “Too much? Oh, come on, Jin. You know you’re the pro when it comes to inspirational speeches and winning people over just by sprouting out some philosophical stuff. I’m but a baby duckling here! I’m learning how to swim in those waters!”

“You brat,” Seokjin said affectionately, and ruffled Jungkook’s hair. “What you just said is right. It’s the truth. And it’s something I needed to hear. You’re not a baby anymore. You don’t need me to hover around you protectively. And I need to wake up and start acting like that.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook said, his voice more at a whisper now. “Thanks, Jin.”

“Thanks for coming over here,” Seokjin replied. “You could have let yourself stew. You could have put more distance between us.”

“Nah, I was just being an asshole.”

Seokjin thought there was a lot of truth to how upset Jungkook had been, and how them not speaking for a couple of days was something Jungkook had needed. But he was too pleased that things seemed to be going back to normal, to say any of that.

At that moment, Seokjin’s stomach gave a terrible rumble, much louder than anything that had come before.

“Sorry,” Seokjin said with an embarrassed blush. “Namjoon and I had lunch much earlier today, and I think that’s my body telling me it’s time for dinner.”

Jungkook shrugged. “I could eat.

Jungkook could always eat. That was a constant Seokjin didn’t think would ever change.

“Want to get something to eat? My treat.”

“You always pay,” Jungkook pointed out.

Seokjin replied, “I’m the big brother.”

Jungkook hefted up the box again, and Seokjin made quick work of closing up the house. Then, when he was satisfied, he met Jungkook at the front door and reached out for the light switch.

“Jin?” Jungkook asked right before they left the apartment.

“Yes?”

Unease was twisted up all over Jungkook’s face, and he was definitely uncomfortable as he asked, “Are you scared? For the surgery?”

Because, the natural conclusion was, Jungkook obviously was.

And that wasn’t something Seokjin could stand for.

“I’ve got a consult with Minah next week before the surgery,” Seokjin said, nudging Jungkook out of the apartment and locking up behind them. “I was going to go by myself. But I’d appreciate it if you went with me. You could ask her any questions you might have about the surgery, if you wanted.”

Jungkook visibly perked. “Even if I annoy her?”

Seokjin scoffed, “Minah loves you and you know that. You’re practically her little brother. I doubt there’s anything you could do at this point to annoy her. She’s fairly immune to you.”

Jungkook gave a grin as if he saw that like a personal challenge, and Seokjin worried about what he’d just unleashed on her.

“Come on,” Seokjin urged. “Let’s go get dinner.”

The truth was, Seokjin was a little worried. But he wasn’t worried about dying. He was more afraid of what would happen if he did, and how the people he left behind would fare.

Or if they would.

“Let’s get hamburgers!” Jungkook shouted.

“You always want American food,” Seokjin pointed out.

“Please! Pretty please, Jin!”

Seokjin knew he was going to give in before Jungkook had even started begging. He was that kind of a lost cause. He was that kind of a big brother.

And for as long as he could possibly see into the future, he planned to stay like that. Because no one was more important to him than Jungkook. And Seokjin would be damned if he left Jungkook on his own prematurely. He dared someone to try him on that. Even death itself.


	40. Chapter Forty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to remind everyone who might have missed it, that this is the twitter for the story:  
> https://twitter.com/DrJinsClinic
> 
> When things happen and I know I'll miss updates, or when I give general information about the story, that's where it happens. If you're so inclined, please follow it for information regarding the story.  
> (I try and keep it to just fic stuff, but honestly I'm too lazy sometimes to switch from that account to my personal one, so stuff will occasionally slip through …)

“You’re kind of an asshole, Jin.”

Seokjin blinked quickly in surprise, and then said, “Okay, that’s definitely not what I was expecting to hear.”

With a distasteful look on his face, Jonghyun pushed the thick binding of papers away from him, and added, “Take off the kinda, okay?” He hadn’t so much as touched the pen that Seokjin had attempted to hand to him several time after the initial refusal.

“Again, this is not the kind of answer that one would think fits the situation. I was thinking more along the lines of a thank you.”

Jonghyun tapped his index finger against the top of the paper, and the stack was so high that it made a faint thudding sound.

“Jonghyun,” Seokjin tried. “I’m serious about this.”

Curiously, Jonghyun asked, “Is this why your brother was acting so constipated for a couple of days? He looked like he had some personal vendetta against you last week—and frankly I’ve never seen that from him before towards you. But is that what happened? Did you spring your possible death on him, too?”

“Possible death,” Seokjin scoffed.

He was glad, at least, that Jonghyun wasn’t making a scene. That likely had more to do with the fact that they were seated in the middle of a busy café, and there were dozens of people surrounding them. Otherwise Jonghyun could be just enough of a firecracker to explode. He simply also happened to have manners when it came to being in public. And Seokjin was never so thankful he’d offered to treat Jonghyun to a coffee on their lunch break.

“That’s what this says, doesn’t it?” Jonghyun questioned.

Seokjin had finally, finally, gotten around to telling Jonghyun about his surgery. He hadn’t meant to leave Jonghyun and the clinic employees until the last second, but if he was being honest, they weren’t nearly as high on his priority list as Namjoon and Jungkook. That was just the nature of his heart. But he was telling Jonghyun now, and it was not going well.

It could have been going worse, though, so Seokjin was willing to take it.

“No,” Seokjin said, sipping at his decaf latte, “it says that in the event of my death, no possible in there, that the clinic is yours.”

“And what makes you think I want the clinic?”

“Because you love that place just as much as me,” Seokjin said easily, and without a single doubt.

Jonghyun gave him a long look and then said, “Yeah, this is definitely why Jungkook was so irritated with you last week.”

“That may or may not be true,” Seokjin said with a grin, enjoying the warmth of the coffee in the cool, air-conditioned café, “but let’s focus on this, shall we?”

Jonghyun’s finger tapped on the paper again, and he offered up, “I don’t like you just springing this on me. I don’t like—”

“You’re a doctor,” Seokjin told him, maybe a little harshly. “Cardio-therasic surgeon or not, you went to medical school, and you know what my condition is. I’ve always been upfront with you about it, the possible complications, and any inevitabilities. This condition is progressive, and I’m just taking steps to stay up to par with it. And you know I like to cover my bases.”

“Jin.” Jonghyun looked distressed now. “This paperwork gives the clinic to me. Like all of it.”

Seokjin grinned. “I know. I was with my lawyer when he drew it up. And I told you at the start of this, you don’t have to sign. But I think you will, because you’re the only other person on this planet who loves the clinic as much as I do, and who gives as much for the patients.”

Jonghyun inched the paperwork closer to him, and Seokjin definitely saw that as a victory of sorts.

“I don’t like talking about worst case scenarios,” Jonghyun told him. “You’re my friend. Next to Key, you’re my best friend. I can’t talk about your death with you, even if the odds are stacked way in your favor that you’ll come through this with flying colors.”

Seokjin didn’t like to take time away from the clinic. But when he did, coming to coffee shops and cafés made him the happiest of all places. He liked how lively they were, with people constantly coming and going, and the smell of coffee aroma in the air, and the burst of energy that came just from walking through the front door.

“Did you hear what I just said?” Jonghyun asked.

“I did,” Seokjin said. “But I feel like you’re a person I can talk to about this—about a worst-case scenario. Namjoon? He loses his marbles every time I hiccup. And Jungkook likes to pretend as if everything just rolls off him, but this is the kind of subject that makes his blood pressure spike at the mere thought. So I need to talk to you, because I know you can handle it.”

Jonghyun was quiet for a moment, then asked, “You having the surgery at your typical hospital?”

“I am.” Seokjin nodded. “I’ll be out for three weeks without any kind of wiggle room. You’ll have to hold down the fort completely during that time period. After that I can start sneaking short shifts in, as long as I’m careful, and after a couple of months, I’ll be perfectly fine. Actually, I’ll be better than perfectly fine.”

“If the surgery goes perfectly fine,” Jonghyun pointed out.

“Sure,” Seokjin agreed. “But you know Minah. You know how good she is. She’ll get the job done.”

Minah wasn’t just a brilliant surgeon, either. She was probably the only person Seokjin knew who could challenge a fully-grown man to a drinking contest, and win. She’d drank Jonghyun under the table several times, and that was kind of terrifying because she was half his size.

Seokjin was ultimately just grateful that she and Jonghyun were friends. They didn’t get to spend a lot of time together, but they got along very well. And Seokjin needed them to have that kind friendship. They were both irreplaceable in his life, and them getting along made him feel better about his choice in friends.

“She’s utterly brilliant,” Jonghyun complimented. “Best I’ve seen—better than surgeons twice her age.”

“Well, don’t tell them that,” Seokjin warned. “You know Minah loves to be underestimated, especially by her male contemporaries, just so she can relish in the looks on their faces when she outperforms them by a mile.”

Jonghyun looked satisfied just imagining it.

“I trust her hands,” Seokjin said honestly. “But just in case, I need to know that the clinic is going to be okay. And you’re the only person I believe can make it into what it should be.”

“It feels wrong, though,” Jonghyun said, more subdued now. “To inherit the clinic in the event of your death?”

Seokjin told him, “It doesn’t feel wrong to me. It’s practically the only thing that feels right. Jonghyun, you’ve been with my practice since day one. You believed in me when almost no one did. You were there the first day we opened, and you struggled with me in the beginning. We had a shoestring budget those first few months, and you didn’t even take any pay for a while when we were trying to get the clinic off the ground.”

“That’s hardly a reason to leave me your clinic,” Jonghyun protested.

Seokjin countered, “You care about our patients, and not as statistics, or tools for improving yourself as a doctor. You care about them as people. You take the time to learn their names, and you get invested in their conditions, and they matter to you. The clinic was my dream, but somewhere along the way, it feels like it became yours, too. That is the most comforting feeling in the world, and that’s why I know you’re the only person who deserves to have the clinic if I’m gone.”

Jonghyun flipped the ream of paper open again, looking through the information there, and Seokjin sat back to drink his latte and wait patiently.

“You’ve actually got a lot in here,” Jonghyun said, sounding impressed in a way. “About where you want the clinic to go in the future, and your aspirations for the clinic.”

Seokjin said quickly, “It’s just an outline of what I think the clinic can be five years from now, or ten. If I’m gone, you obviously have full creative control. But there’s a provision in there that if you take the clinic where I want it to go, you get additional funding.”

Jonghyun looked up from the paper. “With the money you’re leaving to Jungkook?”

Seokjin could hear the tone in Jonghyun’s voice, and chuckled out, “No matter what, the clinic is going to have its government funding, and the private donations. If you decide to go your own way, you won’t lose that. But my father left a lot of money behind. I’m just starting to realize how much. And Jungkook? He’s not a spender. He might want a nice car, and maybe some nice clothes, but he’s not greedy or materialistic. He’ll need something to spend the money on, and the clinic will give him that something.”

Jonghyun scoffed, “I can’t imagine him with more than a couple bucks in his wallet.”

Pleased, Seokjin provided, “He is a scrapper. I know exactly what’s in his bank account right now because I handle the money that dad allocated to him for school and living expenses. He has more than enough to treat the entire clinic’s payroll to dinner a hundred times over. But he’ll still beg me to buy meat for him and drive him around. Because that’s just how Jungkook is. He isn’t cheap, he’s just a little forgetful.”

Laughing, Jonghyun said, “Only your brother could forget how much money he has.”

Fill with pride, and with a boasting tone, Seokjin said, “I consider it a compliment that Jungkook doesn’t prioritize money. If he has enough to get by in a day, that’s all he wants. People like that are rare. I’m not saying wanting more, and having aspirations of wealth is a bad thing. People should always strive for more and the benefits that come with it. But Jungkook is very self-contained.”

With a heavy sigh, Jonghyun reached for the pen, finally, ready to sign the contract that would pass the clinic to him if anything happened to Seokjin during his surgery.

“I’m gonna sign,” Jonghyun said slowly, “because I’ll be damned if I see anyone else get the clinic and ruin our hard work. I’m not signing because I’m giving you the okay to die or anything. I’ll drag you back from the great beyond if I have to.”

“Just sign,” Seokjin said with a smile.

Jonghyun’s name went down with a flourish, and it was after he’d duplicated it on several different sheets, that he asked with a frown, “This isn’t some misguided attempt to get me to stay at the clinic indefinitely, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

With a half shrug, Jonghyun said, “I mean, you’re not trying to tie me to the clinic this way, right? You don’t have to do that. I’m not Yunho.”

“I know you’re not Yunho,” Seokjin replied.

A bit of a wince on his face, Jonghyun hurried to say, “I don’t mean it as an insult to him or anything, you know? I just mean that I’m not him. I’m not … flighty? Maybe that’s not the right word. I just mean, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving Seoul, I’m not leaving the clinic, and I’m not interested in traveling or taking foreign grants, or changing where I am right now.”

“Right now.”

The frown on Jonghyun’s face creased. “Ever.”

Gently, with no hard feelings, Seokjin said, “You can say that right now easily because you need stability in your life at the moment. You and Kibum have a baby right now. You’re going to be petitioning for permanent custody and adoption after six months, right? So of course you want to put down roots right here while she’s young. But what about ten years from now? If I’m gone, I can see you sticking around. But if I’m here, you don’t have to be tied to the clinic forever.”

Jonghyun threw the pen at Seokjin. “Tied to the clinic? Like a bad marriage? Wake up, Seokjin. If I didn’t bail when I wasn’t getting paid to be a doctor, what makes you think I’ll want to go when I’m in a really good place.”

“Jonghyun,” Seokjin said, but there was a lump in his throat after hearing the dedicated words from his partner and friend. “You …”

“I’m in it until the end,” Jonghyun said bluntly. “I want the roots I put down here with Key and Yebin to be the forever kind. I want to do this forever. This clinic is my calling. So stop trying to run me off.”

The air around Seokjin felt a little heavy as he dragged it into his lungs. “Thanks, Jonghyun.”

“Plus,” Jonghyun threw in with a laugh, “I can’t wait until Yebin is old enough to really start making mistakes, so we can have her mopping floors and changing garbage cans.”

“Savage,” Seokjin said good naturedly.

“That’s a compliment,” Jonghyun said.

Seokjin accepted the paperwork back, and said, “After I recover fully from the surgery, and none of this paperwork means anything, we’ll have to go visit my lawyer again. He’s my father’s lawyer, actually, I guess I sort of inherited him. But he’s very good at what he does.” Seokjin added, “He better be, for what I pay him.”

Unsure, Jonghyun asked, “Why would we need to go see your lawyer again?”

“Because I was pretty sure before this, that I wanted you to be my full partner at the clinic, but I’m absolutely certain now.”

“Full partner?” Jonghyun asked him in disbelief.

Seokjin had thought about it for a long time. He’d conceived the idea of the clinic on his own, and gotten it started by himself, but that was about it. Jonghyun had truly been there from the very first day they’d opened. Jonghyun had sacrificed just as much as Seokjin for the clinic, and was no less deserving to have his name on the building. Jonghyun was the kind of partner that Seokjin could always rely on, and turn to, and most importantly, trust.

Seokjin didn’t want to have to draw up new paperwork every time his heart pushed him into it, or his condition took a turn. He wanted to know that legally there was someone standing shoulder to shoulder with him, with the same vision for the hospital.

“If you want it,” Seokjin offered with a grin.  “You probably should have been a partner from day one.”

Faintly, Jonghyun said, “You didn’t know what kind of person I was back then.”

“True,” Seokjin agreed, “but it didn’t take me long to figure it out. And you have given just as much as I have to his clinic. You’ve sacrificed as much as I have. These patients are yours as much as mine. And you’ve done your fair share of grunt work trying to get us sponsors and donors and enough to get by month to month. I want you to be my full partner, if it’s something you want, too.”

Unexpectedly, Jonghyun got up and curled around the table to pull Seokjin up into a hug.

“Of course it’s something I want,” Jonghyun said, voice muffled a little.

It only seemed fair, too. Because Jonghyun could have already started a practice of his own, or have joined up with some place a lot more prestigious than Seokjin’s little clinic. Jonghyun deserved the status and recognition that came with having a practice, and even if the clinic was a little unconventional, it would provide that.

“Well, you really can’t die now,” Jonghyun laughed out.

“Why not?”

Jonghyun let go of him and went back to his seat. “Because I want to do this with someone I consider family. Not by myself.”

Seokjin could have hugged Jonghyun again.

He told the rest of the clinic about his upcoming surgery that very afternoon. His and Jonghyun’s lunch break was over soon enough, and then it was back to the clinic to deliver the news.

“But you’re going to be okay, right?” Samuel asked in a worried way after Seokjin had brought them all into the back room for a quick fifteen-minute meeting. The patients would keep for the time being, the rest of the employees who were off that day Seokjin would fill in soon—or word of mouth would pass to them fast enough.

“I will,” Seokjin said directly to him. Samuel was younger than Jungkook, Seokjin reminded himself, and he needed a sense of security, even if it was false or conditional. “But the point of me telling you now is because I will be out for three weeks minimum. And I’ll be back in a limited capacity for almost a month after that.”

Jonghyun thrust a finger at Samuel and said, “So no throwing a party while dad’s away.”

“I would never,” Samuel protested, but it hardly sounded real. Samuel struck Seokjin as the kind of teenager who absolutely threw parties he knew he wasn’t supposed to, at the first chance.

“The good news is,” Seokjin told the worried faces looking back at him, “we won’t be completely short staffed during that time.”

Yoona took that as her cue and spoke up, “I already started processing Minah’s paperwork. It’s going to be nice to have her around.”

Seokjin wasn’t sure his clinic could survive Yoona and Minah in the same building. They, like Minah and Jonghyun, were friends too, at this point. In the early days when the clinic had just been starting up, Seokjin and Minah and Yoona and Jonghyun and Yunho had often gotten drinks and food after work to lament about their troubles.

Seokjin was starting to realize exactly how much of his life bled from one aspect to another, and how almost all of his friends knew each other. It wasn’t a bad thing to realize.

When the question came up from Moonbin as to who Minah was, Seokjin explained, “She’s my doctor, actually. She’ll be the one performing the surgery on me, and she’s graciously volunteered to work half shifts here at the clinic for a couple of weeks.”

There were other questions that followed, all of which Seokjin could confidently answer, and by the time he was sending everyone back to work, he felt certain that they’d all survive the upcoming period with minimal bumpiness.

“You shouldn’t be more worried about the clinic than yourself,” Joy said as he handed Seokjin a referral request that had come through the fax machine recently.

“Why’s that?” Seokjin looked the paper over.

Passing by, Irene said with a grin, “Because the clinic has all of us to keep it running smoothly. But you’re going to be stuck at home in bed, bored out of your mind for weeks on end. Worry about that.”

“Don’t,” Krystal said, interjecting herself into the conversation, “plot world domination or anything during that time. We like working for a hero, not a villain.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to plot world domination or anything. I’ll probably just catch up with all the medical journals I’ve been lagging behind in.”

“You say that now,” Krystal sang out. “But Jessica and I have a bet. Don’t make me lose it by going dark side on us.”

“Psst,” Jonghyun whispered at him. “I’m in on that bet. I’ll float you half my winnings if you do go dark.”

“Hardy-har,” Seokjin told them all. “Get back to work.”

From behind him, Samuel asked, “You’re really going to be okay? I mean your heart condition. That’s … that’s heavy.”

It took Seokjin a moment to realize that even though he did nothing to hide his medical condition, especially from the people he worked with, Samuel was so new and young that it wasn’t all that surprising he didn’t know a lot about it.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Seokjin said. He put a hand on Samuel’s shoulder and told him seriously, “I’d never die and leave you alone with Jonghyun.”

Across the room, nearly at the door, Jonghyun shouted back, “I heard that, Kim Seokjin!”

“Thank you,” Samuel mouthed at him.

Seokjin was pleased that everyone settled back into work quickly enough, and without much gossip. He knew they were talking about him in quiet, worried snatches of conversation, but everyone carried on as if nothing at all was the matter, and that was what counted.

Because Seokjin knew very soon that he’d be out for several weeks in a row, he did his best to put in double the time he usually did, with the remaining days he had. It wasn’t as if he thought the clinic couldn’t survive without him, it was more that he was feeling rather guilty about being away for so long.

“Jin!” Jonghyun said, hours and hours after Seokjin had started, and roughly twenty minutes before the clinic was set to close, “your boyfriend is here and he says you need to leave now.”

Seokjin, who’d been in the middle of reviewing the recent budget adjustment, looked up as Jonghyun’s head poked into his office.

“Namjoon’s here?”

Namjoon almost never came to the clinic. He hardly had the time, to begin with, and Seokjin knew Namjoon was always worried about the kind of trouble he attracted. Namjoon had been vocal about not wanting to bring that to the clinic.

“In the flesh,” Jonghyun relayed. “Hanging out in the lobby, corrupting my daughter, so chop-chop, okay?”

More curious than patient, Seokjin abandoned his work right in the middle of it, and nearly ran to the lobby.

When he got there Seokjin wasn’t surprised to see Kibum and Yebin there, because on most days Jonghyun worked late they came to pick him up, but Namjoon made the sight of them odd. They were an odd sight in the deserted waiting room, but kind of an adorable one, too. Because Kibum was on the phone with someone he was obviously frustrated with, and Namjoon was bouncing a grinning Yebin around with confidence that would make him a great father.

“That’s corruption?” Seokjin asked Jonghyun who was next to him. “Namjoon playing with her?”

“I don’t want her to get any ideas about older men,” Jonghyun said airily, nose up.

Seokjin laughed and pushed through the divider at the front, to get to Namjoon.

“I didn’t think I’d see you tonight,” Seokjin said, happy to watch the way Namjoon was so easily distracting Yebin from her typical crying.  He had the patented bounce-rock motion down, and Yebin was loving it.

“Actually,” Namjoon pointed out, “I was just going about my regular business today when it hit me that you’re still going to be very much recovering from your surgery when our anniversary rolls around.”

Namjoon didn’t even wince like a pro when he was holding Yebin just a little too high, and she was able to grab onto some of his hair and give it a painful tug.

But while that was happening, a horrifying thought was coming over Seokjin. “You’re right.”

“I mean, the worst of it will be over by then, but you won’t be able to fly out anywhere, or go long distances, and you’ll still only be partially cleared to stand on your feet and move around in any serious way. And that’s if there are absolutely no complications and it’s a perfect surgery.”

His face crumbling, Seokjin apologized, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even stop to think about our anniversary when I gave Minah the go ahead for the surgery. I was just thinking about that.”

Namjoon gave him an easy smile. “I’d much rather put your health before one of the many, many dozens of anniversaries we’re going to have in our lifetime.”

Quietly, Seokjin said, “But it’s our first.”

Breezing by them, Jonghyun plucked Yebin out of Namjoon’s arms and said, “I’ll take that, thank you. No corruption today.”

When they were alone again, Namjoon insisted, “I’d give up a million anniversaries with you if it means you being healthy. But for the record, I was going to take you to Japan—to this seaside town called Matsue. It’s a really peaceful place and a nice vacation spot. Plus, it’s like only a couple of hours away by plane, and we could easily squeak out an entire weekend there and not feel rushed.”

Once, more, Seokjin said, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” Namjoon cupped the side of his face and leaned in to kiss him chastely. “Matsue will be there next year, or the year after that, or whenever. I care about getting you healthy enough that we can do stuff like that, and travel, and go on adventures and enjoy each other’s company.”

Of course Namjoon made perfect sense, but Seokjin still felt like he was spoiling something. He felt like his poor planning, on top of him constantly reminding Namjoon about their anniversary, had ruined things. He felt like a hypocrite, putting so much pressure on Namjoon, and then being the one to ruin it.

“But we’re gonna make it work,” Namjoon said optimistically. “At least for this year. No big deal.”

“Leaving?” Jonghyun called out to Seokjin. “If you want to go now, I’ll lock up.”

Seokjin raised a hand to him in appreciation.

“Come on,” Namjoon said, tugging him towards the door. “I want to show you something.”

“We’re going out?” Seokjin asked, even as he let Namjoon lead him to his car. He honestly just wanted to go home and take a shower and maybe wallow a little in his inability to keep certain important dates straight. But he didn’t want to take the happiness out of Namjoon anymore, so he climbed in the car and put his seatbelt on.

Namjoon said, when he got in, “I know you’re probably tired from working all day, but I really want to show you something. Before it’s too late.”

Seokjin’s eyes widened. “That sound ominous.”

Starting the car, Namjoon laughed out, “I just mean, I want to take you to see your anniversary present.”

“Namjoon. You …”

Now he felt even worse. Had he somehow ruined that, too?

“My anniversary present?”

Merging into traffic, Namjoon pointed them out of the city, or at least certainly out of Bangtan’s area, and said, “I wanted to wait until just before we left for Japan to show you this, but then I realized we couldn’t go this year, and so I was asking Suga about what I could do instead to make the date really nice for you, and I happened to mention what your present is. Yeah, then Suga said I should maybe run it by you first, just in case it’s a no-go.”

Seokjin was feeling distinctly less worried about what it could be, and more curious.

“Drive,” Seokjin ordered. “And tell me more. This is something that has a due date on it? Or some kind of limitation? Or—”

“It’s something that you can say no to if you want,” Namjoon intercepted. “And you won’t’ hurt my feelings if you do, I just wanted to get proactive on something. Maybe I’m rushing things. Maybe you’ll hate it. But we’re gonna go see it now, and you can tell me what you think.”

Nothing that Namjoon had said gave anything away, so with a full moon shining down on them, they drove.

The car ride was so soothing, and the quiet was so comfortable between them, that at some point Seokjin started to doze. It wasn’t a heavy sleep, not like the kind he wanted to have once he climbed into bed. But after a long day at work, and all the stress he’d been under getting the clinic ready for his absence, it was a nice nap.

“We’re here.”

Seokjin opened his eyes some time later to pitch blackness. But it only lasted for a second when Namjoon popped the car door open and the overhead light in the vehicle came on. Namjoon plunged the car back into darkness when he got out and shut the door, but then he was rounding to Seokjin’s side and helping him out.

“This is my anniversary present?” Seokjin asked skeptically, looking out into the darkness. He could see Seoul in the distance, maybe a half hour away, sparkling and shining. And around them there were houses nearby, but not so close that it would be anything less than a couple minutes’ walk to get there. Mostly there was just darkness in the direction Namjoon was pointing him, stretching out for what looked like an eternity.

“Stay right here,” Namjoon said, and then he was dashing off into the darkness. Seokjin heard him call out, “I have to find the generator! Try not to get chased by an axe murderer in the dark while I’m gone.”

“Very funny,” Seokjin replied. But he lost track of Namjoon in the darkness after that.

A whirling followed not long after Namjoon went, a chugging and sputtering sound followed, and then flood lights were blasting on.

“Namjoon!” Seokjin called out, shielding his eyes from the sudden and powerful light.

“I’m here,” Namjoon said, back at his side in a flash, hands coming around Seokjin’s waist as Namjoon stood behind him. “I’d bring you here during the day, but honestly, the nighttime view is what sold me. I know your eyes are still adjusting to the light, give them a second, but think about that view of Seoul in the distance. Imagine waking up to that every morning, and it being the last thing before bed every night. We’re at a slightly higher elevation than Seoul. That’s what makes the sight so good.”

Slowly, Seokjin’s eyes did adjust, and when that happened, he was standing on a slight incline, looking down at a big parcel of land that had been staked with wooden markers, and had been roped off in the absolute outline of a house.

“Namjoon?”

“Surprise?” Namjoon said a bit weakly now, as if he was doubting himself in some way. “I was thinking, you know, not today or anything, but in the future, this could be ours. Our home. Where we build our home.”

Seokjin spun himself around to face Namjoon, and asked, “You want to live here?””

With a nervous chuckle, Namjoon said, “I really hope so, because I bought the land.”

“You bought …” Seokjin shook his head slowly.

“Suga called me an idiot for doing it without your input,” Namjoon said, “but I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted you to know that I’m seriously thinking about our future, and where we’re going to be in five or ten years, and this is it.”

“Outside of Seoul?”

Namjoon let go of him, and wandered closer to the marked off land. He shone under the bright floodlights, and called back to Seokjin, “I love Seoul. I do. I was born and raised there. But it’s so hectic all the time, you know? People never slow down there. So how about we live outside of Seoul? In a quiet neighborhood that’s a lot safer and has a lot more privacy. Not to mention no gang activity.”

By the side of the potential house that had been marked off, and how far away the other houses were, it looked like Namjoon was going for a lot more space than typical.

“Seoul’s not that far away,” Namjoon continued, pointing the city out in the distance. “It would be a longer commute for you to and from work than right now, but not a huge one.”

Slowly Seokjin descended to where Namjoon was, trying to imagine a house in place of the dirt ground.

“I thought a lot about this spot before I bought the land,” Namjoon insisted. “This is a great, quiet neighborhood, with almost no crime, and an amazing private academy less than ten minutes from here. There’s a lot of space out here, like parks, and places to go for walks. We’re half an hour away from Seoul, but it’s like a completely different world. A much slower one.”

Seokjin had never lived so far from his clinic. More importantly, he’d always been a resident of the same neighborhood he served. Part of him wanted to feel guilty for even imagining a big house out in a more isolated and private area. All the while Seokjin’s patients lived on top of each other in cramped quarters.

“Say something,” Namjoon urged, his nerves sounding frayed. “If you hate it, or you think I’m overstepping, just say something. I bought the land, but I can sell it if you think this is stupid. I just think … I mean …”

Namjoon was so kind and earnest Seokjin couldn’t help asking, “What do you think?”

Walking forward even more, Namjoon said, “I’m thinking I don’t want to run Bangtan forever. I don’t want to be living that kind of life forever. We can’t have kids with that kind of life. I want something slower and more peaceful. I want a house out here with you, where were have plenty of space, and we have room for more than one kid, and we can have a yard and maybe a dog?”

It was very pleasing, in all actually, to hear that Namjoon had been thinking the same things that Seokjin had. Seokjin had wondered how difficult it would eventually be for Namjoon to separate himself from Bangtan. But it seemed like Namjoon was more than ready to make the break as soon as possible, and that definitely coincided with some things Namjoon had said before about why he was still in charge of Bangtan.

“A big house is very Western,” Seokjin pointed out.

“I like Western houses,” Namjoon countered. “I like having room to think and move and breathe. Korean houses can feel claustrophobic at times.”

Seokjin couldn’t argue with that. He’d been very privileged to have his own room growing up, and not to have to share with Jungkook. That privacy had been something important to him as he grew out of childhood and into his teenage years. Korean homes were quaint and lovely, but they typically didn’t provide that kind of privacy.

“And, you know,” Namjoon hedged. “A dog. We could get a dog. For the kids to play with.”

“For you to play with,” Seokjin laughed. But having a pet was a nice idea.

Namjoon turned fully to him, and said bluntly, “If you think I’m making decisions for you without consulting you first, or I’m being too forward, or you just hate the idea of living out here, tell me right now. I’m serious when I say I can sell the land. We can pick something out together. I just though it’s nice out here. This is a place I’d want to raise kids, and grow old with you, and have a home that we build from the ground up.”

“Not us personally, I hope,” Seokjin said. “I don’t know anything about construction.”

“Not us,” Namjoon said with a grin. “And not this second. I definitely don’t have the cash to build a house right now. But in a couple of years?”

This … this could be a nice spot to have a house. Seokjin could see it now. He could see the layout of the house in his mind, and space outside the kids would have to run around and play in with a dog, and how neighbors would be close enough to host a dinner for, but far enough away for some privacy.

He could see taking late afternoon walks with Namjoon in the area, and not being bothered by cars or loud noise, or the brightness that was Seoul.

He could see himself growing old in the home they built for their family.

“It’s our house that’s going here, isn’t it?” Seokjin asked him.

He could see Namjoon taking a second to register the words, and then he said, “Well, I certainly don’t want to live here by myself. Yeah, I wanna build you a house we share here.”

“No.” Seokjin shook his head.

“No?” Namjoon looked faint.

“It’s our home,” Seokjin corrected. “So you’re not building anything for me. We build it together, on this spot, and pay for it together, or we don’t do it at all.”

In a wry way, Namjoon said, “I’m pretty sure you have enough money to build a house a million times over.”

Seokjin nodded, and said, “But I want to build our house with you. I want it to be a partnership. I want us to do it together, or not at all. This won’t you be you buying me anything, or me buying you anything. This is us as a partnership right here in this spot, or us staying where we are in Seoul.”

“We can’t stay there forever,” Namjoon said, panic fleeing from his face. “But this place? This could be a forever place.”

“I like it,” Seokjin told him finally.

“You like it?”

Seokjin asked him, “You wanna do this? Want to build a home here for whatever kind of family we have in the future, and for us to grow old in?”

Namjoon was to his side a moment later to whisper, “Happy early anniversary,” and then Namjoon was kissing him with soft lips and such devotion that Seokjin was never so sure in his life that he’d found the person he was meant to end up with.

“We’re gonna love it here,” Namjoon said between kisses. “It’s nice and quiet, and safe, and perfect.”

To Seokjin, it didn’t matter if it was a hovel in a hole. As long as it was his and Namjoon’s, it was somewhere he wanted to be.

They were on their way to the car when Namjoon said, “We’ll even make sure Jungkook’s got a room for when he stays over.”

Seokjin asked him, “You think talking about my brother staying with us is the way to win me over”

Before Seokjin could say any more, Namjoon snuck another kiss and said, “With anyone else? No. With you? Absolutely. Plus, your brother practically camps out on our sofa most nights of the week anyway. Might as well make sure he’s got a proper bed when he comes over to our house. And you’re crazy if you think us being half an hour outside of Seoul is something that would stop him from being over all the time.”

Stopping by the side of the car, Seokjin practically whispered at Namjoon, “Thank you.”

“For what?” Namjoon seemed confused.

“For accepting that by being in a relationship with me, you’re getting a tag along.” Seokjin was so thankful he could practically cry. “And thank you for understanding what place Jungkook has in my life, and now yours. I just … I know it’s asking a lot that you always have to include him and accept him and treat him in a special way. And I want you to know that because you’re willing to do that, it makes me love you that much more It’s something that convinces me every day that I chose right when I picked you.”

Namjoon had already turned the lights and the generator off in preparation for their departure, but Seokjin could just make him out as he leaned across the top of the car and said in a fond way, “As far as little brothers go, I feel like I could do worse. A lot of people get some crappy in laws that they just kind of have to deal with when they marry into a family. I lucked out and got Jungkook. So you don’t have to apologize. I like having him for a little brother.”

“Even when he’s irritating you?” Seokjin joked.

Namjoon assured, “Even when he’s irritating me. Because you raised him, Jin. You molded him into the man he is today—which is a very good man. So yeah, even when he’s being irritating, I don’t regret inheriting him with you even in the least bit.”

Seokjin stretched his hand across the top of the car. “I love you,” he told Namjoon.

“I love you more,” Namjoon teased. “But you can be a close second if you really want to have a competition of it.”

Namjoon squeezed Seokjin’s hand, and it gave him such reassurance and warmth.

“A close second? You’re so generous.”

Namjoon laughed loudly, and in a deep way that Seokjin felt in himself. And then Namjoon ordered, “Get in the car, okay? I say we go home.”

“And have that competition?” Seokjin arched an eyebrow suggestively. Namjoon was typically the one to make innuendo, but for as tired as Seokjin was, that feeling couldn’t compete with how much he desired Namjoon in that moment.

“Don’t know if we’re even gonna make it home at this rate,” Namjoon said, a red tint to his cheeks under the pale moonlight. “Good thing it’s dark out here.”

Five minutes later they were truly putting the privacy of the spot to the test, and like Namjoon had said, the darkness ended up being a blessing—if only to save them from being arrested for indecent exposure. Seokjin would never have lived that down. And neither would Jungkook have let him.

But some risks were certainly worth it, and Namjoon always would be.


	41. Chapter Forty-One

His surgery was scheduled for one in the afternoon, and when Seokjin had learned that, he’d leaned closer to Minah and told her in his most serious voice, “Thank you.”

Minah had thrown her head back in an obnoxious way and laughed for some time before replying, “I know you well, Kim Seokjin. You’re forgetting, we’ve known each other for well over twenty years now.  Do you think for one second I’d risk a morning operation with you? You’re not human until the afternoon.”

“I’m not that bad,” Seokjin had grumbled, but an afternoon surgery really was preferred. Seokjin was more than capable of rolling out of bed, getting himself together, and acting like the adult he was. But his mood always drastically improved the later in the day it was.

Maybe Minah was confusing him with Jungkook. Jungkook was a dead weight before the noon hour, and he spoke in broke sentences if forced to be up before then. Seokjin hadn’t let Jungkook sign up for any early morning classes at the university, terrified that it might culminate in Jungkook murdering a fellow student or professor.

Minah had replied, “No, you’re not. But I do my better work in the afternoon, too.”

“You feel better in the afternoon?”

“Not just that.” She’d given him a wink. “I started tracking my surgeries about a year ago, based on the time of the day they occurred. Statistically, I literally do better work in the afternoon.”

Now, at ten in the morning, Seokjin was checked into the hospital and all set up for a couple hours of routine tests, pre-surgery checks, and some monitoring of his heart to make sure it was currently running at a steady pace. If there were any abnormalities to the rhythm, the whole surgery would likely have to be called off until he could get it back under control.

Expectedly, Namjoon was sitting in the chair by the bed in the private room, just out of range that he wouldn’t be in the way, but close enough that he and Seokjin could exchange comforting glances with each other.

He was exercising far more control than Jungkook was at the moment.

“I’m not moving,” Jungkook insisted, pressed to his side, the first time a nurse had suggested—firmly at that, that he might be more comfortable on the sofa across the room. Out of the way. “You’ll have to throw me out.”

No one was getting thrown out, Seokjin knew, and more importantly, so did Jungkook. Everyone else must have been in on it as well, because his hospital room was utterly packed, and it was definitely exceeding the capacity limit.

But Seokjin was a friendly face to the hospital, even excluding the residency work he’d done there when he was younger. Seokjin was on good terms with a lot of the nursing staff, due to his frequent appointments, and on top of that, Minah was something of a darling for the hospital. She, unlike Seokjin, was a legacy doctor, and that gave her prestige that couldn’t be earned outside of simply coming from a specific family.

No one, Seokjin was absolutely certain, was going to run the risk of upsetting him, or ruining Minah’s surgery in any way. That was why Bangtan was dominating his hospital room now, with both Jonghyun and Kibum in tow.

“So that thing keeps track of your heart rate?” Taehyung asked, tracing the line that was peeking out from under the hospital gown Seokjin had changed into earlier. “And this thing monitors your O2 levels, and what’s this other thing do?”

“Don’t suffocate him,” Hoseok warned Taehyung, but seemed just as curious about all of the machinery that was attached to Seokjin now.

Namjoon, from his seat, said, “Jungkook’s far more likely to suffocate him, than you, V.”

“I will not,” Jungkook said, an arm around Seokjin’s waist as he pressed in closer to him.

Seokjin gave Namjoon a warning glance. Seokjin could often be accused of babying Jungkook and letting him get away with too much. But Seokjin absolutely thought Jungkook got a free pass now, with the surgery only a couple of hours away. If Jungkook wanted to lay on his bed, and have such close contact with him, then Jungkook could do whatever he wanted.

“Suga?” Namjoon called out, for a second opinion. “Who seems more likely to physically suffocate the person about to have surgery. The octopus attached to said patient, or someone asking questions about medical equipment?”

Looking up from a magazine he’d been skimming, Kibum beat Yoongi to the punch to say with no lack of attitude, “Can we drop the code names? I can’t keep them all straight at this point. And Jin said you’re trying not to be hoodlums anymore. Doesn’t that defeat the purpose then?”

“Says someone with a moniker himself,” Yoongi said to him roughly.

“I think a moniker is a little different than a gang name,” Jonghyun pipped up.

“Okay, enough,” Seokjin cut in. “We’re all going to be best friends right now, because I don’t want to be stressed out, and if I am, the machines I’m attached to are going to notice.” Already Seokjin could feel the spike in his blood pressure, and Minah was absolutely going to go over his numbers before she committed to opening him up. “No fighting.”

“You think this is a fight?” Kibum scoffed.

Seokjin gave him a grin. “I know. Bangtan wouldn’t be standing if you were serious.”

Jonghyun smothered down a laugh as Jimin pushed open the hospital door coming in. He’d been down in the lobby making some phone calls to the rest of the gang, tasked with keeping the peace for the next few hours while the main members of Bangtan were occupied. Only Bangtan’s most inner circle knew about the surgery itself, but the entire gang knew something was up.

“What’s going on?” Jimin asked, perceptively picking up on the divide between Bangtan’s members and Seokjin’s other friends.

“Not much,” Hoseok said casually. “Jin just seems to think that his fashionista friend could take us down if there was a fight of some kind.”

Jimin’s eyes slid to Kibum in an evaluating way. He lingered for a second, then shrugged and said, “I could see it. You’re one of those guys who wears heels, yeah?”

“Jimin!” Seokjin threw at him.

“On the runway,” Kibum acknowledged. “If the designer calls for it.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Jimin told the rest of them. “Any dude who can stand in heels, and can also take them off to club someone to death with said heels, is the guy I’m getting behind. I’m put money on him, too.”

Jonghyun finally burst out laughing them, and it served to dispel some of the tension in the room.

Seokjin sat up a little higher in the bed, fighting back an inevitable feeling of apprehension, and told everyone, “I appreciate that you all showed up this morning, but if any of you want to go, you’re more than welcomed to. It’s a Monday, you’re all very busy, and no offense will be taken.”

Seokjin hadn’t really paid attention to what Jimin had been carrying when he’d come back in the room, but he tossed the bag he’d had with him at Seokjin now, and said, “Then who’d bring you awesome stuff from downstairs?”

It wasn’t surprising that of all the things to make Jungkook detach from Seokjin were the treats he was now uncovering.

Easily, Namjoon told Jimin, “He’s got surgery in three hours. He can’t eat anything.”

“After,” Jimin said, as if Namjoon had said something stupid.

“I won’t be so hungry for a while after, either,” Seokjin told him. “Surgery of any kind has a way of stealing an appetite.”

Seemingly engrossed once more in his magazine, Kibum said, “No one is going anywhere. Deal with it.” His attitude was blasé, but Seokjin knew him well enough to realize it was just a front. Kibum had one leg crossed over another, and the top leg was bouncing quickly in a visible way.

Kibum was nervous, he was just doing his best to hide it.

“You are going to need to get to the clinic before I come out of surgery,” Seokjin told Jonghyun. “Raina and Irene are both out today, and Yoona has a late shift because she’s helping her sister plan her wedding, remember? It’s not like I think the clinic will burn down without one of us there to supervise, but let’s not play with fire, yes?”

With some uncertainty, and in a way that was unexpected to the members of Bangtan, Jonghyun looked to them and asked, “Will the lot of you still be coming around even when Jin is resting at home?”

Taehyung looked startled, and said a honest way, “I don’t know.”

Jimin shrugged, too.

Taehyung and Jimin probably hung around the clinic the most frequently, after Jungkook, with Hoseok and Yoongi being less likely to make an appearance on any given day.

Jonghyun’s question was suddenly making Seokjin consider if they just came around for him, or if it was for the clinic. Seokjin always made them help out when they came, but he’d never stopped to ask if they truly wanted to. He’d just naturally made it a stipulation.

“You should,” Jonghyun said, and those words were the even bigger surprise. He shrugged a little. “People are used to seeing you around. They’ve gone from being unsure and nervous about you guys, to expecting to see you around. Some of them even feel safer with you there.”

With a firm nod, Taehyung said, “I will.” He glanced to Namjoon. “If I’ve got the time.”

Because Namjoon was an absolute softie, he barely wasted any time saying, “What you want to do with your free time is your business. And maybe Jonghyun has a point. Increasing our visibility out in the public only benefits us.”

Jonghyun told Namjoon staunchly, “A lot of our patients remember what it was like when Infinite was in control of the area. Then they see that you took over and things got better. You continue to prove how much better you are by being seen helping out now, and doing things as mundane as working at the clinic. I say, keep coming around. There’s never a shortage of work to be done, and we can always use extra hands.”

Seokjin added quickly, “And I’ll be back in three weeks.”

“Ha!” Namjoon spoke up, sitting up a lot straighter in his chair.

“In a limited capacity,” Seokjin revised.

“That seems a little soon,” Yoongi offered up.

Namjoon told him, “That’s because Minah said he has to stay at home and take it easy for three weeks minimum, and then, only if the surgery goes perfect, and only if he’s feeling really good, does he get to start moving around and doing stuff a couple hours out of the day. He’s not going back to work after week three.”

Seokjin scowled as Kibum said knowingly, “I predict he’ll just be lurking around the clinic, trying to micromanage, being on the lookout for anyone who’ll squeal on him if he so much as thinks about taking a patient.”

Jimin pointed a finger at Kibum. “That’s my vote too.”

“You’re all traitors,” Seokjin volleyed out.

“Don’t worry,” Jungkook assured, “I’ll sit on Jin for the next two months to make sure he’ll be fine, if I have to.”

“Uh…” Taehyung said slowly, “I think you’ll kill your brother if you sit on him after he has his chest cracked open for this surgery.”

Jungkook looked horrified. “I just meant … I … Jin!”

With a casual arm around Jungkook now, Seokjin said, “Actually, this procedure doesn’t require any kind of open heart surgery. Minah will make a relatively small incision in my upper chest area, and do everything through that. That’s the reason I’ll be able to make such a quick recovery.”

Seokjin palmed the area on his chest where he reasoned Minah might make the incision, and moved his fingers a couple of inches apart. “Like this.”

“That’s awfully small,” Jungkook remarked.

Seokjin promised, “It’s much better to limit the space in which the procedure is performed. A smaller wound doesn’t just mean a shorter recovery time, it also means less of a chance of infection.”

Jungkook settled down against him, and mumbled, “I wish I could be in there with you.”

“In the operating room?” Seokjin laughed out. “You don’t want to be in there.”

“No,” Jungkook was forced to admit, but Seokjin knew what he’d meant when he’d said that.

The next few hours passed in relative ease and comfort for Seokjin. His heart came through with flying colors during the pretests, and when Minah came by to check in on him about forty minutes before he was due into the operating theater, she was impressed with what she was seeing.

“So you know the deal now,” she said, and she had a nurse with her. “We’ll give you something now to relax you and make you sleepy—it’s so good you might not even remember your name. And then we’ll wheel you into the operating room for the procedure. You’ll go under with a local, and I’ll get that ICD in you.”

Jungkook laughed out, “You’re telling me you’re about to get my brother sky high?”

“You have no clue how high,” Minah replied.

Seokjin warned, “I will not be held accountable for anything I say while under the influence.”

Jimin held up his phone. “I’m ready to record it all.”

Minah stepped to the side and that’s when Seokjin saw the needle in the nurse’s hand.

Seokjin was closer to thirty now than he was twenty, and he’d undergone several surgeries already. But despite it all, he felt so small and young.

And he just wanted his father.

For all the mistakes his father had made, and the absences he’d proliferated over the years, whenever Seokjin had been in the hospital, his father had been there with him. No matter how hard it had been for them to talk to each other, and understand each other, his father had never let him go through anything in the hospital on his own.

Seokjin wanted the man now so badly. But of course that was an impossibility, so he had to settle for Jungkook and Namjoon and all of his other friends, being enough.

They weren’t a terrible second.

“I’ll see you in just a short while, okay?” Minah said. Then she reached over and squeezed Seokjin’s hand for support, before leaving.

“How do you feel?” Jungkook asked in almost an excited way not less than thirty seconds after Seokjin had gotten the relaxant.

“Like I want to push you off this bed,” Seokjin told him, and he gave Jungkook a small shove just for show.

“Hey!” Jungkook gripped the railing behind him.

“I’m fine,” Seokjin insisted. But the room was going a little wobbly, Jungkook’s face was starting to blur, and he was suddenly a lot sleepier now, than he had been just seconds earlier.

“Jin, oops, there you go.”

 Namjoon’s hands were on him then, guiding him back down on the bed. But how had he started tipping to the side, and when had Namjoon gotten up?

“Thanks,” Seokjin said, hearing himself slur the word a little.

“No problem,” Namjoon said soothingly, kissing his forehead. “Just relax, okay? You’re going to be fine.”

Seokjin couldn’t track the passage of time after that. He could barely keep his thoughts straight. He only knew that one moment he was surrounded by people he loved and cared for, and the next Minah was asking him to count backwards while he looked up at bright lights.

And then nothing.

Until he woke up.

It was still daylight when he woke, but the blinds had been pulled tight in the room, and it was shrouded in darkness because of that. There was a light on above him, though, and the more he looked around, the more he realized he was in the hospital’s recovery ward.

Seokjin was fumbling for a call nurse button, when Minah appeared at his bedside. She leaned on the railing a bit casually and commented, “You really have great timing, Jin. I was just about to do my final rounds of the night, and then get home before I don’t have a girlfriend anymore. I was hoping you’d wake up before then.”

Blinking slowly, Seokjin could finally make out the rest of the room. There were other beds in there, and other patients, but it was quiet and peaceful, but Seokjin was so tried he couldn’t bring himself to care if it was at all.

“You waking up?” Minah’s cool hand brushed back his bangs. “You did great, Jin. Fabulous. I got the ICD in, tested it to make sure it’s running smoothly, and I managed to do it all pretty fabulously. You’re welcome.”

In a haze, Seokjin tried to lift his hand to his chest to feet for it. It was common for an ICD to be faintly easy to sense, if one knew what to look for. It wasn’t something that was going to be bursting out of his skin, or even really protruding much at all. But feeling it seemed like it would make it real.

“No you don’t, mister.” Minah caught his hand and guided it back down onto the bed. “You’re all bandaged up so you wouldn’t be able to feel anything. Jin, you’ve still got the good drugs going through you so much at this point that I’m not sure you can feel anything at all.”

Seokjin tried to pinch her.

“You’re my favorite, too.”

Soothingly, her fingers worked across his forehead and Seokjin pushed into the touch.

“You got your new lease on life, Jin,” Minah said softly to him. “And all it’s gonna cost you is a couple of weeks on bedrest.”

With his mouth feeling sticky and dry all at the same time, Seokjin asked, “Jungkook?”

Minah leaned back from the bed to check his numbers and give him a visual evaluation, then said, “Both Jungkook and Namjoon are in the waiting room, or at least were the last time I checked. They each made cafeteria runs at some point, but they were firmly rooted in the waiting room for the past hour, waiting for you to wake up. You’re in recovery now, but I’ll get you all signed off to get settled into a private room now. Remember how long we talked about you’re going to stay in the hospital?”

Seokjin could barely remember his name, and he said roughly, “I’m done? The surgery?”

“You’re still so out of it,” Minah giggled. “Just rest up a little longer, okay? The drugs are going to wear off pretty soon.”

It felt like it was too bright in the room, so as Minah stepped away from him, Seokjin closed his eyes. And he promptly fell asleep again.

“—don’t wake up soon, I’m going to swipe your car keys and—”

“I want him to wake up, too. But if you make threats like that, you’re going to be the one in a hospital bed.”

At the sound of two voices volleying back and forth, Seokjin cracked his eyes open. Everything was a little blurry at first, but the more he blinked, the more it cleared up. And before long he could see Namjoon and Jungkook standing at the foot of his bed, now speaking in hushed tones.

Seokjin, feeling a lot more like himself now, said in a scratchy voice to his brother, “If you even look at that car, I’ll run you down with it.”

Jungkook beamed at him with a million-watt smile, and he hurried to the side of Seokjin’s bed that he was leaning towards. “You’re awake!”

Namjoon leaned past Jungkook to kiss his forehead, and to mumble in his ear, “Thank you for coming through with flying colors.”

“Can I have some water?” Seokjin asked Jungkook, spotting the pitcher on the table next to his bed. He was glad he was in a private room now, one that looked just like the room he’d been in before he’d gone in for surgery. Only this time it was a lot emptier.

“Here you go,” Jungkook said, and Seokjin appreciated that he helped Seokjin lean forward a little so he could sip at the cup. But even the simple motion of bending forward pulled painfully at his chest, and by the time he laid back only seconds later, he was breathing heavily.

Jungkook hurried to sit on his bed, and Namjoon seemed more than happy to take Jungkook’s place closer to Seokjin’s head.

“Hey,” Namjoon said sweetly, giving Seokjin a proper kiss now. “How do you feel?”

Seokjin thought for a moment, then replied honestly, “A little confused. A lot sore. But okay.”

Namjoon told him, “Minah came and talked to us about half an hour ago. She said your surgery was a complete success, and even she was surprised with how well it went in comparison to how thin your right ventricle is. You’ve got to stay in the hospital tonight, but you can go home tomorrow morning.”

Excitedly, Jungkook asked. “Do you remember anything?"

“Like from the surgery?” Seokjin asked Jungkook with a look of disbelief on his face. “If I was awake for any of that, someone would not have been doing their job properly.”

Jungkook was just jittery. Seokjin could see it in the way he was bouncing his leg, and the quickness of the way he spoke. Jungkook certainly wasn’t diagnosable with ADD or anything of the sort, but whenever Jungkook was cooped up in one place for too long, he got jittery.

“What time is it?” Seokjin asked.

Namjoon replied, “About half past five.”

That told Seokjin that Jungkook had been prowling about in the hospital for well over seven hours. And that explained everything.

“You know what would be nice to have?” Seokjin asked Jungkook, trying to get settled into the bed in a more upright position without aggravating his chest.

“I’ll get you anything you want,” Jungkook promised, leaning towards him.

“Careful,” Namjoon wanted with a chuckle, “he’ll want you to get him perfect grades this semester and some volunteer work on top of that.”

Jungkook’s face was just starting to scrunch up at the notion when Seokjin reminded, “I’ll be staying overnight, you know.”

Jungkook nodded. “I’ve got your overnight bag right here. If you wanna change into your pajamas, you just say the word. I have your toothbrush, too.”

“I’d like my e-reader,” Seokjin said bluntly.

Jungkook asked him flatly, “You want your … your kindle?”

He was feeling less and less tired with every second that passed, and now he felt hyperaware of his body. He didn’t want to move too much, focused on recovering, and he certainly didn’t want to go back to sleep.

“I want to read and pass the time until I can go home.”

In a move that made Seokjin want to kiss Namjoon until his mouth was swollen, Namjoon held out his own car keys towards Jungkook and practically ordered, “How often does your brother ask for anything? Go get him his e-reader.”

Awkwardly Jungkook reached out for the keys. “You want me to just … go …”

“And then come back,” Seokjin said simply. “I know you want to be here, and I’m not trying to run you out for good. I just think you need to stretch your legs and get some fresh air, and I really would like my e-reader for later tonight.”

“Okay,” Jungkook said slowly, then he was elbowing Namjoon out of the way as he vaulted down to the ground and hugged Seokjin carefully. “I’ll be back.”

Namjoon waited until Jungkook was out of the room before saying, “Good call on that. He was wearing a hole into the waiting room floor, earlier.”

“And you weren’t?” Seokjin asked.

“No, I totally was,” Namjoon admitted. “But Jungkook getting out there and doing something that makes him feel useful, will do him some good. And,” Namjoon punctuated the word, taking him time wrapping Seokjin up in his arms, careful of all the machinery and wires monitoring his new ICD and his heart, “that gives me some valuable alone time with you.”

Namjoon got up on the bed then, though it was a slow-going process trying to make both of them fit, and then they were spooning together with Seokjin enjoying Namjoon wrapped around him.

“Thank you for looking after Jungkook,” Seokjin said, folding his hands over Namjoon’s.

“Hey, you did your part. I did mine.”

Seokjin was content, then, to simply lay with Namjoon in that bed and feel his heart beat in him.

Nurses came and went from his room, some of them trying to herd Namjoon out of the bed, others simply letting him be, but for the most part, they were left to their own devices.

Eventually, however, Namjoon’s hand came up to his chest, over the bandages, and rested there lightly. And then Namjoon asked, “So you’ll be able to do all kinds of things now?”

“More than before,” Seokjin agreed. “I won’t be running a marathon or anything, but I also won’t be terrified at the thought of being out of breath.”

“Hey, hey,” Namjoon said, sounding on edge all the sudden. “I get you out of breath a lot.”

“That’s an awfully bold statement for you to make.”

Namjoon sat up a little, pressing a hand down on the bed and leaning over Seokjin. “I’m serious, Jin. Look, I know we’re not teenagers or anything, so sex isn’t all we think about all the time. But I’m desperately in love with you, and I like to remind you of that as frequently as possible … with my body.”

“That doesn’t turn me on,” Seokjin warned, fighting back a grin.

“Liar,” Namjoon accused. Then more seriously, he asked, “Was all the sex we had something dangerous? Shit, Jin, we never really talked about that, and we have had a lot of sex. Have I been putting you in danger because I want it so much with you?”

Seokjin burst out laughing then. The laughter made his chest hurt, but he suffered it willingly.

“You’re scared your dick could have caused a heart attack?”

“It now seems like a very valid fear!”

“Joon,” Seokjin said softly, leaning back to brush his lips against Namjoon’s jaw. “Let me assure you that there was next to no risk that, as long as I was on my medication, that even rigorous sexual activity would result in a heart attack or even abnormal rhythm. Could it have happened? Of course, but that could have happened while I was checking the mail, or walking to the store, or just having a conversation with you. So don’t dwell on it. Mostly because if there’s a best way to go, I think you know that qualifies.”

Jungkook would be back any moment, so Seokjin really wanted to take advantage of the privacy they currently had.

“What a way to go,” Namjoon mumbled into Seokjin’s shoulder.

Getting back on track, Seokjin said, “With this ICD I’ll be able to do a lot more physical activities than before, and if I push myself too far, we’ll get advanced warning before something goes catastrophically wrong. I mean, for the most part, the ICD will regulate my heart for me.”

“Is this a forever thing?” Namjoon asked.

“A while thing,” Seokjin assured.

Namjoon got off the bed shortly after that to use the bathroom, and when he came back, he said with a frown on his face, “Jungkook just texted me. Suga’s on his way. Something happened.”

Concerned, Seokjin asked, “What’s that mean? When did the others go? Earlier?”

They’d been there when he’d gone into surgery, but he hadn’t really expected all of them to remain the entire time.

“I don’t know what’s going on yet,” Namjoon said honestly, and Seokjin appreciated it. The last thing he wanted was to be coddled at the moment. “Jungkook just sent a text saying there’s been an incident. Suga’s on his way over here right now to get me.” Namjoon added, as if he’d just remembered, “Most of the guys stayed during the whole of your surgery, and once you were in the clear, and moved to recovery, they left.”

Seokjin almost couldn’t care at all about the others. He was too hung up on what Namjoon had said.

“Yoongi is coming to get you?”

Namjoon put his hands up in a frustrated way. “I don’t know anything, Jin. I’m going down to the lobby right now to meet up with some of the guy’s I’ve had stationed here, and I’ll find out more then.” He gave Seokjin a regretful look. “I’m sorry, Jin. I wanted to be here with you the entire night.”

“It’s fine. Go,” Seokjin insisted.

Ultimately, the plan had been for both Jungkook and Namjoon to stay overnight with him. He’d told the both of them from the start that it wasn’t necessary, but he’d been comforted when they’d made it clear that was what was happening. Hospital rules called for a single overnight visitor, but Minah had worked some magic, and gotten the both of them permission.

Now work was calling Namjoon away, and by proxy, it would take Jungkook, too. Seokjin was more than capable of spending a night in the hospital by himself. He’d done it before several times. But he was certainly disappointed.

Crestfallen, Namjoon swore, “Whatever it is, whatever the problem is, I’ll take care of it and be back before you fall asleep tonight.”

Knowingly, Seokjin told him in a blunt way, “Don’t make that kind of promise, Namjoon.”

Namjoon went quiet.

“I have always understood that these moments would happen,” Seokjin said without animosity or anger, “just like you’ve always understood that sometimes the clinic has to come before you. So I’m not upset. I just don’t want you to make that kind of promise.”

“I want it to be a promise I can keep,” Namjoon said, coming to stand by his bed  and taking Seokjin’s hand in his own. “I’m going to try for it.”

Seokjin shook his head. “I’d rather you be focused and safe.” Seokjin pointed out, “Do you really think anyone in Bangtan would pull you away from me if it wasn’t something serious?”

“No,” Namjoon admitted.

“Then go,” Seokjin said once more. “Go find out what’s going on.”

Namjoon leaned down to kiss him, and promised, “I’ll be back once I know what’s the problem.”

Namjoon barely waited for his response before he was off jogging towards the door, and then was out it.

Seokjin settled back on the bed once Namjoon was gone and tried not to let his fears get the best of him. Until Namjoon came back with word of what was happening, there was no point in getting worked up.

It was just awful timing, really. This was the night that Namjoon had planned to put Bangtan on a reserve list of sorts. The members would still be out there, patrolling the streets, watching out for Infinite, and keeping the kind of order that the cops still seemed incapable of doing. But tonight was the night Namjoon had promised was theirs. Nothing was supposed to happen gang related tonight, not while Namjoon and Jungkook camped out at the hospital.

The fact that something was happening, and something big by the sounds of it, caused a flareup of irritation in Seokjin. He hated to be greedy, but this was a night he’d needed his family close.

Especially with his father being gone.

But ultimately, Bangtan business was Bangtan business. And with tensions so high with Infinite, it would have been selfish to want Namjoon to stay with him. And there was no reason to think that it wasn’t the kind of trouble that would take only a few hours to clean up. Then Namjoon would come back to him.

Hopefully.

Namjoon was gone only a couple of minutes, surprisingly, and then he was slipping back into Seokjin’s room with Hoseok with him.

“I thought you said Yoongi was on his way here?” Seokjin questioned, seeing Hoseok. He paled a little. “How bad is it?”

“Bad enough he had to go ahead,” Namjoon said with a grimace.

Hoseok was a lot more helpful with information, stating, “A couple of our safehouses got hit. Not the kind that we’d have you at, but the ones that have our more important guys operating out of, and where we store some of our supplies, and the kinds of places that Infinite should not be able to sniff out even if they get lucky.”

Seokjin said slowly, repeating what they already knew, “But if there was someone on the inside telling them these things …”

“We have to go,” Namjoon said, giving Seokjin a proper kiss goodbye. “Some of my men are down, we lost some supplies we had, and now the police are sniffing around. Suga’s gone ahead to cut them off and clear out some nearby places that might be vulnerable, but this is bad.”

Hoseok added, “It was a coordinated attack, and that means something.”

“What does it mean?” Seokjin wanted to know.

Gritting his teeth, Namjoon supplied, “It means Infinite isn’t worried about stretching themselves too thin. It means they felt strong enough, and capable enough to hit more than one target at a time. And it tells me that either they’ve gotten a huge boost recently, or they were just playing coy with us about how strong they’ve been from the start. I don’t know which is worse.”

Hoseok’s face looked like he wanted to comment on that, but held back.

“You go do what you have to,” Seokjin said firmly, giving no pause. “If the police are poking around, it’s especially bad.”

“We can’t get pinched again,” Namjoon said angrily. “Right now, we can’t afford to be down anyone, or to have any kind of suspicious gaze turn on us. And if that’s what Infinite is going for, then they’re two steps ahead of us already.”

“Be safe,” Seokjin urged, tugging on Namjoon’s sleeve until he bent so one more kiss could pass between them. “Watch after yourself, watch after Jungkook, and do whatever you have to.”

Namjoon snuck him a small smile. “Could you imagine saying those last words to me a year ago?”

No. That was the truth. A year ago, Seokjin hadn’t really understood the way things worked, either. He’d simply thought that these were petty conflicts between small boys who thought guns made them powerful. He’d thought that the feud between Infinite and Bangtan could be talked through, or worked out through nonviolent means.

Seokjin still wasn’t endorsing any kind of violence, especially the kind that would get people killed. But he had a better understanding of the world they were living in, and how things would ultimately turn out.

And he wasn’t going to lose the people he loved. No matter what they had to do to keep that from happening.

“Go be the leader you are,” Seokjin ordered, willing himself not to fuss.

“I may not be back tonight,” Namjoon said. He admitted, “I probably won’t be. And neither will Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” Seokjin said.

“Thank you for understanding,” Namjoon breathed out, almost like he’d been terrified of the kind of negative reaction Seokjin was going to have. “I love you.”

Namjoon took off with hardly another word. And before Hoseok could join him, Seokjin called out to him, “You be careful too, Hoseok.”

Hoseok gave him a wink. “You don’t have to say that to me.”

Indignantly, Seokjin replied, “Of course I do. You’re my friend, too.”

At the door, Hoseok told him, “No, I meant, you don’t have to remind me to be careful. I’m always careful.”

“I’m still going to say it,” Seokjin responded.

“Thanks,” Hoseok said simply, and then was gone.

They’d be fine, Seokjin told himself, like he always did when Namjoon and the others rushed off into danger. They were always fine, because they watched out for each other, and wouldn’t dare risk the hell he’d give any of them for not being okay.

And that sentiment carried him through the hours as they passed. Seokjin watched a bit of TV, wished Jungkook had come back with his e-reader, ate a rather bland but decent dinner, and then settled in to bed easily enough.

Despite feeling awake and alert hours earlier when Namjoon and Jungkook had been there, by eight, when the sun was going down, he was spent. It was too easy to scoot down in his bed, hit the lights, and tell himself that when he woke up in the morning, Namjoon would be there waiting at his bedside.

The next time he woke up it wasn’t the morning.

And it wasn’t Namjoon sitting in the seat next to his bed.

Shrouded in the darkness of the room, moonlight peeking through the blinds that had been pulled, Seokjin could still easily make out Myungsoo.

In an almost silky-smooth voice, Myungsoo told him, “I was wondering when you were going to wake up. I was going to pinch your oxygen tube soon.”

Instinctively, Seokjin brought his hand up to the nasal canula that was fitted to his nose. He’d been put on the oxygen just before he’d gone to sleep because his oxygen levels were running a bit low. It was nothing to be worried about, considering he’d just had surgery but the night staff hadn’t wanted to take any chances. And Seokjin wanted to go home the next morning, so he hadn’t fought them on it.

Seokjin pointed out to Myungsoo, “The oxygen is just to improve my levels.” He wiggled a finger at him where the O2 monitor was attached. “Pinching the tube won’t kill me.”

“No,” Myungsoo said in a knowing way. “And I don’t want you dead just yet.” Myungsoo leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I just want to have a little chat with you. We need to catch up, don’t you think?”

The machine monitoring his heart sped up, and Seokjin hated how easily it revealed the fear he was feeling. Myungsoo wasn’t Dongwoo. Myungsoo was worse than Dongwoo, and Seokjin truly felt his life was currently in danger.

“You’d better calm down,” Myungsoo warned, nodding to the machine that was recording his heart. “If you bring a nurse in here because of that, I’ll have to kill them. Do you want that on your conscience?”

No, Seokjin absolutely did not, so he took deep, even breaths, and concentrated on bringing his heart rate down. Myungsoo could do whatever he wanted to Seokjin. But Seokjin was not going to be responsible for anyone else getting hurt.

“Better,” Myungsoo said, when Seokjin’s heart slowed. “Now, how about we have that little chat?”

Gulping, Seokjin asked, “What’s with Infinite wanting to talk to me all the time. Can’t you just call like a normal person?”

Myungsoo stood, and though he was of normal stature, he made Seokjin feel tiny in comparison. “Do you really want to get smart with me right now?” Myungsoo asked darkly. “Do you have any idea how quickly I could kill you? Or even how badly I want to. I could do it and get out of this hospital before anyone even realized you were gone.”

Anything smart Seokjin planned to say from then on out, was shelved.

Slowly, wincing as his chest pulled, Seokjin sat up. And then he asked, “What do you want to talk about?”

Myungsoo seemed to settle then, and stated emphatically, “I don’t just want to talk. I’ve got a message I want to send. And you, Doctor Kim? You’re the messenger who’ll deliver it. From Infinite to Bangtan, and no, I’m not sorry about what comes next.”

Seokjin’s fingers gripped tight to the blanket pooled at his lap, and in that moment, he waited silently for Myungsoo to deliver his message. Whatever it might be.


	42. Chapter Forty-Two

For a long while, minutes that felt like hours, Myungsoo didn’t speak.  He’d sat himself back in the chair next to Seokjin’s bed, the chair that Namjoon should have been in, and didn’t speak. He only watched Seokjin, almost creepily, like he was trying to decide something.

Seokjin hoped it wasn’t if Myungsoo was going to kill him or not.

“Dongwoo said you told him about Sunggyu.”

It almost took Seokjin a second to realize Myungsoo had spoken.

Frowning, Seokjin wondered, this was what it was about?

“I did,” Seokjin said slowly, a little confused.

“Dongwoo said Sunggyu killed himself—shot himself in the head. He said you told him that’s the truth.”

In an incredulous way, Seokjin asked, “Did you manufacture the incident tonight, to draw Bangtan away from me, so we could talk about something that I already told Dongwoo and that he already told you?”

The light in the room was now on, and Seokjin could see how handsome Myungsoo truly was. And he really was handsome, in a drama kind of way. Myungsoo always kind of looked like he’d stepped right out of a CF commercial, or a television show, and now was no exception.

But there was a lot buried under the pleasing features. Anyone could see that much.

 Myungsoo’s handsome face hid a lot, and it seemed like he liked it that way.

“That’s awfully egotistical of you, don’t you think?” Myungsoo asked.

Seokjin only shrugged. “Infinite has done more for less, before. I don’t think it’s so impossible to think that might be what’s happening right now.”

Myungsoo tapped his fingers on his knee, then said, “No. Tonight isn’t about you. Or at least it isn’t wholly about you. Maybe it was never about you from the start, not until an opportunity presented itself. Tonight was just business as usual. And then I heard you were here. So I decided I had to pay you a visit.”

He’d heard? That truly confirmed Seokjin’s suspicions about the traitor. Though maybe suspicion wasn’t the right word, because they were all already certain that person existed. But he’d heard such a thing from Myungsoo’s own mouth now, and the man sounded like he hadn’t even realized what he’d given away.

Because though it wasn’t some military secret that Seokjin had his surgery that day, they hadn’t spread the news around. Bangtan had keep it to a limited amount of people, and even fewer had known not only what hospital he’d be in, but also what time he’d be there.

For Myungsoo to have been able to slip past not only the doctors and nurses, but the members of Bangtan on rotation stationed nearby, he must have had access to precise information.

Someone was definitely feeding Infinite information, and they were doing so about Seokjin, too

“To talk about Sunggyu,” Seokjin said.

Bluntly, Myungsoo said, “I think you’re a liar. I think you took advantage of Dongwoo and told him something that you knew would hurt him.”

“Excuse me?” Seokjin burst out. “You think I took advantage of Dongwoo? The person who kidnapped me?”

Defensively, Myungsoo said, “Dongwoo is quick to believe people. He’s a fool like that, but he’s the best of all of us, and I won’t have you lying to him like that.”

The thing was, the way Myungsoo was talking about Dongwoo? It was the way one brother talked about another—with consideration and defensiveness and affection. Myungsoo was hard and jaded, but he was here, protecting Dongwoo from a perceived slight right now. It was something so crazy that Seokjin nearly started laughing.

“I’m not a liar,” Seokjin bit out. “And even if I were, Dongwoo isn’t my friend. He isn’t my ally. He’s nothing to me. I’m not obligated to be nice to him.”

Myungsoo grinned at him.

“What?” Seokjin demanded.

“Now you are lying,” Myungsoo said in thrilled way. “Everyone knows who you are, Kim Seokjin. Everyone knows what a paragon for good you are. So don’t play with me.”

Seokjin’s fingers curled into his blanket, and less than a few inches away, the call button was situated. At any second he could press it and draw attention to who was in his room. He could get security dispatched to his room. But Myungsoo could absolutely kill several people in that time, and Seokjin didn’t think the risk was anywhere near worth it.

Steadily, Seokjin told Myungsoo, “What I said to Dongwoo? It’s the absolute truth. Sunggyu came to my home to kill me. We talked, he misunderstood what I was saying to him, he panicked, and he shot himself.”

“Because,” Myungsoo said slowly, “he thought you were threatening his sister.”

So they weren’t going to tiptoe around that subject, apparently. Dongwoo had been fiercely defensive of even bringing her up. Myungsoo just seemed to accept the fact that knowledge of her existed now. Even to people he certainly didn’t want to know.

“He did,” Seokjin agreed. “I was trying to tell him that Rap Mon knew about her and hadn’t done anything to her because he wasn’t that kind of person. I was trying to tell him that no matter what happened between Infinite and Bangtan, she would never be threatened. But he panicked.”

That was certainly not what Myungsoo wanted to hear. Seokjin could see the way his body tensed, and how his fingers balled into fists, and Myungsoo went quiet.

Pressing his lips tightly together, Seokjin forced himself to remain quiet. He’d wait now, to see what Myungsoo did next.

Finally, Myungsoo said simply, “Sunggyu deserved better.”

Seokjin genuinely felt that way, simply because of the circumstances of Sunggyu’s death. No one deserved death due to a misunderstanding, especially like the one that had occurred.

“So,” Seokjin eased out, suddenly feeling awkward. He was sitting next to someone who could end him at any second, and Myungsoo’s mood was certainly not good.

“I want to blame you,” Myungsoo said sharply, and without emotion. “I should blame you. Hoya blames you. It was your apartment. You spoke to Sunggyu. You forced him to make an impossible choice.”

Seokjin was not going to take the blame, and told Myungsoo, “I did the best I could in a situation where someone was there to kill me. I wouldn’t have wished that on Sunggyu. I know you want to blame me. But that wasn’t my fault. So if you want to kill me for that, you better be honest with yourself before you do it. If you try to kill me for what happened with Sunggyu, you’re doing it because you’re upset and hurt, not because it’s my fault.”

Suddenly, almost in a startling way, Myungsoo looked so human. He went from looking hard and deadly, to wounded and human.

“I said I want to blame you, not that I do.”

Do not feel sympathy for him, Seokjin told himself. Myungsoo was someone who’d kill Jungkook without a second thought. He couldn’t feel sympathy for someone like that. Not now. Not in the situation he’d found himself in with Namjoon and Bangtan.

“He saved me, you know.” Myungsoo caught Seokjin’s gaze. “He saved me.”

“Sunggyu?”

Myungsoo nodded, then asked, “Do you have any idea what this place was like before Sunggyu took control?”

Vaguely, Seokjin did. He’d been so separated from reality for so long, living in a crystal palace far away from violence and police corruption, and death and worse, while he was growing up. But he’d heard enough about what the streets had been like before Sunggyu had taken control. Seokjin knew why Sunggyu had taken control.

None of that excused Sunggyu, or the tactics he had undertaken. But Seokjin understood why some people saw Sunggyu as the hero. He understood how complex the whole situation had been.

“No, you don’t,” Myungsoo said, sounding angry. “You have no fucking idea what it was like to grow up with this face, in a place where it meant something horrible.”

Unfortunately, Seokjin could imagine exactly what had happened to Myungsoo with a face as handsome as his own.

Shuddering a little, Myungsoo said softly, “Every day was hell. Every day hell just trying to survive. Every day a part of me died inside, especially when the police would come around, and they’d be there to use me, not save me.”

Seokjin’s mouth was so dry it was almost painful.

“I thought about killing myself sometimes,” Myungsoo confessed, eyes drifting off in memory, “I thought even death had to be better than the pain and the hurt and nothingness that was my life. And then I wasn’t just thinking about it. I was planning it. I was plotting it.” With a low chuckle, Myungsoo told Seokjin, “I swallowed a bottle of pills one night, trying to end it all.”

Seokjin felt his own breath catch in him. No matter what kind of a threat Myungsoo was to him, or to Jungkook, or to Bangtan as a whole, Seokjin was still a person. He was a doctor. And to see the kind of sorrow and suffering that was on Myungsoo’s face now, while he simply thought about his past, was almost too much.

“I didn’t die,” Myungsoo laughed out. “Someone found me too quickly. I had my stomach pumped, and when I got out of the hospital, I learned what hell truly was. I learned what it was to be used and hurt. I learned what it was to hate myself.”

Shakily, Seokjin said, “You never should have had to go through that. No one should ever have to go through that.”

A small grin pulled at Myungsoo then, as he said, "Then Sunggyu was there, like this shining light of hope I’d never thought I would see. He was there, with Dongwoo, and they bought me for the night. I thought it would be bad, but they treated me like a person. They treated me like someone who deserved to live, and they didn’t fuck me.”

“You—”

Myungsoo interrupted, “I would have done anything for them in that second—the second I realized they’d bought me just to give me a night of peace and humanity. Do you get it? That’s how Sunggyu took control. Because he came to people like me, who had nothing, and he gave us everything. And in return, we gave him secrets. The kinds of secrets that topple empires.”

Never before, had Seokjin had such convoluted and muddled thoughts on the man Sunggyu had been.

“That,” Myungsoo said, his voice rising, “is why Sunggyu deserved better. Because he saved me for being nothing. Because he saved Hoya from people who used him for sport. Because he gave Dongwoo a family for the first time in his life, and helped Sungyeol avenge the men who killed his younger brother. Because he loved Woohyun, who had always been told he was unlovable and too broken to be anything but despised, and because he refused to let Sungjong be used as fodder by people who threw lives away faster than they spent their money. That is the kind of man Sunggyu was. So you go ahead and tell me he’s a monster, and that he was doing terrible things, but I’m going to sit right here and tell you he’s someone we all would have died for, and gladly so.”

Seokjin’s heart rate spiked, but this time Myungsoo didn’t comment on it.

“He … he died thinking he was protecting his sister,” Seokjin said. “No matter what I think of him as a person, that’s something noble.”

“Everything was always for her.” Myungsoo got to his feet then, shaking his fingers from the balls they’d been in. “Maybe he saved all of us along the way, but he did everything for her. Until you ruined that. Your and your boyfriend.”

Was this the part where Myungsoo tried to kill him? Seokjin was under no illusions that he stood little chance against someone like Myungsoo, but he wasn’t going to go down easily, either. He was no easy mark.

Myungsoo asked, “Will you give me your word and swear that you tried to stop Sunggyu from killing himself? That it truly was a misunderstanding?”

“Why would you take my word for anything as truth?”

The smile was bigger on Myungsoo’s face as he seemed forced to admit, “Because you might be tangled up in Bangtan, but you aren’t a member. And contrary to what I’d like you to be, I guess Idon’t think you’re a liar. Not really. So if you swear that to me, I’ll believe you. 

Seokjin swore it, not just to convince Myungsoo, but because it was the truth in every way possible.

Myungsoo’s phone vibrated just a few moments after that, but he didn’t reach for it as he said, “I didn’t come here just for that. I didn’t come here just to talk about Sunggyu.”

Somehow, Seokjin didn’t really believe that. The way Myungsoo had spoken about him? And the emotions Seokjin had seen tied to Sunggyu’s memory? Seokjin could imagine that Myungsoo would have done anything to get the answers that Seokjin had given. Or maybe just to say the things he had to someone who hadn’t understood fully before.

Myungsoo advanced on Seokjin’s bed, and from his back, in one sweeping motion, Myungsoo had a gun trained on Seokjin’s form. He pressed up into Seokjin’s side with the gun, and it was as if a switch had been flipped in the man. All of the humanity that had been peeking through with Myungsoo before, was gone.

“I didn’t tell you that sob story so you’ll feel sorry for me,” Myungsoo said, punctuating the words as he pressed the gun even harder into Seokjin’s side. “I don’t care what you think about me, or Infinite. But I hope you understand now how serious I am about Infinite. Infinite meant everything to Sunggyu, so now it means everything to me. And I’m not going to let your boyfriend, or anyone else, stop Infinite from taking back what it rightly deserves.”

“With you at the top?” Seokjin asked. Myungsoo was getting heated, and emotional, and Seokjin suddenly saw an opportunity that hadn’t been there before. Bangtan had been scrambling for some time to find out just who was in charge of Infinite. It seemed certain that Dongwoo wasn’t, but no one could pin down if it was Hoya or Myungsoo. If Seokjin could get Myungsoo to admit it was him, that would at least give Bangtan something.

“It doesn’t matter who’s at the top,” Myungsoo said cryptically, but not in a way that seemed deliberate. “It just matters that Infinite gets there”

Seokjin could feel the pressure of the gun pressing through the blankets, through his clothing, and against his skin. At such close contact, even with a smaller handgun, a discharge would do a good deal amount of damage, or prove to be lethal. Especially at the angle Myungsoo was holding it.

“Is that why you came?” Seokjin asked. “To send a message that Infinite plans to claw their way back to the top?”

Myungsoo gave a chuckle. “What makes you think we aren’t already there?”

Seokjin didn’t like the idea of that one bit.

Before Seokjin could respond, Myungsoo said, “If Bangtan wants to keep playing this game with Infinite, we’re more than happy to comply. They brought in Exo underneath our noses. They tipped the scales, but I guess it’s only our fault for not anticipating a power move like that. Now we’ve responded in kind, so it’s all fair.”

Seokjin tried his hardest not to react. Infinite had responded in kind? Who was Infinite working with now?

“It’s all fair,” Myungsoo repeated. “We’ll abide by the situation right now, and do that fairly. But what we’re not going to stand for is Rap Monster thinking he can bring anyone else in to disrupt the balance here, and help him win. Bangtan wants to win, then they have to do it fairly. Bangtan wants to beat us, then they have to be better than us. No cheating with new friends. We have to have standards.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seokjin said honestly. “No one is—”

Myungsoo pressed the gun so hard into his side pain shot through Seokjin, and he snapped out, “Don’t play stupid with me, Kim Seokjin. Did Bangtan think we wouldn’t know? Did Bangtan think we wouldn’t notice them trying to sneak help in?”

“Seriously,” Seokjin said, feeling panicked, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know anything about aid coming in for Bangtan. I’m associated with Bangtan, obviously, but I’m not a member. I don’t go to their meetings. I don’t know their secrets, and that’s a deliberate thing. I know less about Bangtan than you do.”

Myungsoo snorted, “You go to bed every night with Bangtan’s leader.”

“And like I said,” Seokjin insisted, “Bangtan and I remain as separate as possible. Rap Mon does that to protect me from being in a position like this. I swear. I don’t know anything about what you’re talking about. I’m not the person to try and get information on about this.”

“I’m not trying to get information from you.” Myungsoo pulled back pressure on the gun just slightly. “I know everything about this matter that I need to know. All you need to do is pass on a straightforward message to your boyfriend. He gets his friends out of town ASAP, or he’s going to open a world of pain for him, for Bangtan, and certainly for you.”

“For me?” Seokjin asked, feeling the perspiration on his forehead.

“For you and that little clinic of yours,” Myungsoo said, and it sounded like a promise. “Or how about some of the employees you’ve got there. There’s a young one, isn’t there? Just the cutest little kid I’ve ever seen in my life. Samuel’s his name, right? How young is he? Fifteen? Sixteen?”

Seokjin gasped out, “Don’t your dare,” absolutely terrified of gang matters spilling over to the clinic in any way, least of all in the direction of an innocent like Samuel.

Myungsoo arched an eyebrow. “I fucking dare, Doctor Kim, and I’ll rip him to pieces just to prove my point. Understand me now, I know how much your clinic means to you, and in particular, that kid. Oh, but if the idea of me hurting him upsets you so much, how about I swing for your partner? Kim Jonghyun. Or rather, how about that baby he’s got now?”

Seokjin surged forward then, the air so thin as he breathed it in, and the machines making dangerously high sounds as his heartbeat rocked out of control, “I will destroy you if you so much as look at her.”

Myungsoo slammed a hand down on the bed, jerking Seokjin back, and pressed the gun in at such an angle that it would take out most of his kidney and a lot of his lower bowel if it discharged. “I’d love to see you try,” Myungsoo replied. “Seriously. Go ahead, doctor. Give me a reason to end you right now. Make another threat. Hoya said I could put you down tonight, if I wanted. I almost want to.”

Blinking back tears that were starting to gather in his eyes, Seokjin desperately tried to regain control of himself, and what was happening.

Myungsoo, in an overly pleased way, continued, “You make sure to tell Rap Monster that if he doesn’t comply, you’ll be the first one we come for. And then we’ll start taking shots at the people at that clinic, starting with the kid, followed by the baby. He wants to play dirty? So can we.”

Seokjin nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice sounded from behind Myungsoo, “You think you aren’t already playing dirty? Threatening him in his hospital bed after surgery?”

Myungsoo’s pressure on the gun pulled back, but not completely. Neither did Myungsoo turn as he said, “This is unexpected.”

Seokjin had known the voice right away, but he had absolute proof it was Jungkook when his brother shifted to the side to reveal himself.

“Did you really think you were the only one who thought about how vulnerable Jin would be tonight? Did you honestly think we’d just leave him alone without anyone watching?” Jungkook made a clicking sound with this mouth. “You already tried this trick once. Did you think we’d get fooled again?”

There was almost a look of respect on Myungsoo’s face.

Jungkook pressed on, “Just because you didn’t see anyone watching, doesn’t mean no one was.”

Seokjin had no doubt now that Jungkook was holding a gun to Myungsoo’s back. The proof was in the way Jungkook was standing and his posture, and likely the reason Myungsoo hadn’t moved.

Seokjin certainly hoped there wasn’t some terrible chain reaction about to happen.

“I should tell you,” Myungsoo said, “I have a gun pressed into your brother’s side right now. I think you already knew that, but my finger is awfully close to the trigger.”

“And I have one pressed up against your spine.” There was a terribly frightening look on Jungkook’s face as he said, “Having a brother for a doctor has really educated me on the worst places to be injured. Where you’ve got your gun? You’d do a lot of damage, but we’re in a hospital, and I think Jin would survive. But where I’ve got mine? You’d never walk again, if you live at all.”

Jungkook wasn’t looking in Seokjin’s direction at all. He was wholly focused on Myungsoo, and whatever the man’s next move would be.

“So what do you propose we do?” Myungsoo’s head tilted back a little towards Jungkook. “We’re a stalemate in here, but plenty of my men are in the hospital right now. How many of yours are? What happens when we start shooting in here, and they start shooting out there? What happens when Doctor Kim’s nurse comes to check on him soon?”

Jungkook didn’t answer right away. And Seokjin, feeling nervous that a shootout was inevitable, suggested, “How about you both put your guns down and call a temporary truce. Myungsoo doesn’t shoot me, and Jungkook doesn’t shoot Myungsoo. Myungsoo gets to walk out of this hospital, and no one’s men start shooting anyone. Fair deal? Everyone lives to fight another day.”

Dead silence followed in the room, at least until Myungsoo said, “I’m game if you are.”

“Fine,” Jungkook said, practically in a biter way.

There was always the chance that either Myungsoo or Jungkook might renege on the agreement, but in an astonishing move, Myungsoo pulled his gun back. And then he stepped to the side, away from Seokjin, and back towards the door. Jungkook watched him carefully, but let him go.

“You threatened my brother,” Jungkook told Myungsoo, before he could leave the room. “I won’t forget that.”

Myungsoo gave him a salute. “I wouldn’t expect any less.” His gaze shifted to Seokjin then, and he reminded, “Be a dear and pass on that message, would you?”

The second Myungsoo was gone, the door closing quietly behind him, Seokjin had his arms full of Jungkook.

“Oh god, Jin, are you okay?” Jungkook demanded. He hugged Seokjin tightly, clinging to him in a desperate way. The panic on his face doubled when he pulled back long enough to see the oxygen cannula, and demanded, “What’s wrong? Why do you have that? What—”

“It’s fine,” Seokjin insisted, catching Jungkook’ wrist and squeezing in a sure way.  “My oxygen levels were a little low earlier. That’s all. It’s nothing to worry about. I promise.”

“Worry about?” Jungkook raked his fingers through his hair in a maddening way. “I just walked in on something that is the very definition of that.”

With a wince, Seokjin asked, “Would you believe me if I said he just wanted to talk, too?”

Jungkook threw himself down in to the chair that Myungsoo had been sitting in five minutes earlier, and exclaimed, “I feel like I’m the one who’s about to go into cardiac failure.” Jungkook rubbed at his chest, over his heart. “Is this what it feels like?”

“And yet,” Seokjin told him, gesturing to his own, “mine held up admirably. Or the ICD did.”

Inquisitively, Jungkook asked, “It was working?”

“It’s always working,” Seokjin said. “But the point of the ICD is for it to work without me realizing it. Minah will be glad to know it passed its first real test.”

“How about we don’t tell her what just happened.” Jungkook fumbled for his phone in his pocket. “I don’t want to die, and I don’t trust her not to kill me over something like this.”

The adrenaline was just starting to wear off from what Seokjin had experienced as Jungkook spoke quickly into his phone. He might have been talking to Namjoon or Taehyung or anyone, but from what he gleamed from Jungkook’s side of the conversation, the hospital was about to be swarmed with Bangtan members.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Seokjin said.

“Huh?” Jungkook asked, “What?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Seokjin said. “Earlier I would have given anything to have you or Namjoon here with me overnight. Now I feel like I have to eat those thoughts.”

Jungkook dragged his chair closer to the bed so he could lean his forearms up on it, and then he sighed out in a weary way, “I’m just glad I got here in time.” Jungkook’s chin rested on the bed in a weary way. “I swear, I just went to the bathroom for a short second. That’s it. He got in here in the two minuets it took me to do that, and I feel so, so stupid.”

Seokjin put a hand down on top of Jungkook’s head. “Don’t beat yourself up. He was watching and waiting. He … he knew you were here, which is more than I could say. Which means he knew when to make his move, and that’s not your fault.”

Tilting towards Seokjin, Jungkook pouted out, “I couldn’t tell you I was here, you know? Because we thought something like this might happen, and it had to look convincing to anyone and everyone that you were alone.”

Except Myungsoo had known better. And that hadn’t been a fluke.

“Get me some water,” Seokjin ordered gently, nudging Jungkook off the bed. “I’m not upset.”

“I am sorry,” Jungkook mumbled.

Crossing his legs on the bed and accepting a cup of water from Jungkook a second later, Seokjin asked, “Myungsoo said that none of what happened tonight was a plot to get near me—or at least that wasn’t the goal. I think Infinite really was focused on hitting Bangtan tonight, and Myungsoo just moved on an opportunity. I don’t think he came here tonight to hurt me at all, either—no matter how much he probably wanted to. But if this was a spontaneous thing for him, how did you know to have someone watching the hospital for trouble?”

“Other than the fact that Infinite has a track record with baiting us in order to take a swing at you?”

“They never copped to what happened at the apartment,” Seokjin reminded.

Jungkook was unbothered by that, and said, “Rap Mon was honestly just covering his bases, because again, Infinite have this track record. Tonight was legit, by the way. We got hit hard, several times over. But in case it wasn’t real, Rap Mon had to make sure you were okay. Especially since you just had your surgery.”

“So he had a lot people posted at the hospital?”

Jungkook shook his head. “Just a half dozen or so. Only the most trusted, and they were blending in as staff and visitors. We had to make it look like we were fully focused on what was happening out there, so we had to pull back almost completely. But Suho’s guys were here, watching. They’re the ones who tipped us off. One of them spotted Myungsoo.”

Impressed, Seokjin commented, “I’m surprised, considering we know there’s a mole in there somewhere, that you’d be so trusting of Exo.”

Jungkook laid his head back on the bed, folding his hands under his chin. Jungkook’s form was trembling a little bit, and for the first time Seokjin stopped to consider that Jungkook might have appeared strong and unwavering with Myungsoo, but he’d probably been frightened the entire time. And the adrenaline had most certainly worn off now.

“There’s a mole in Exo for sure,” Jungkook mumbled out. “That’s the truth. But Rap Mon and Suga agreed that this mole is probably working alone, and wouldn’t risk exposing himself tonight. Rap Mon hates taking risks like that, you know, especially with you, but he was too afraid not to.”

Like he did so often, Seokjin scratched his fingers into Jungkook’s scalp.

“Are you really okay?” Jungkook asked quietly.

Seokjin breathed evenly for a couple of moments, then said, “I really do think Myungsoo just wanted to talk. Even if you hadn’t shown up, I think he would have walked away in the end without hurting me.”

“What’s with members of Infinite wanting to talk to you?”

“That’s what I asked,” Seokjin laughed out.

But Myungsoo hadn’t just come to talk about Sunggyu. He’d also come to deliver a warning, and make some threats, and Seokjin still had no clue what he’d been going on about.

Myungsoo had been insinuating that Bangtan was bringing in outside help to combat against Infinite steadily rising up again. Myungsoo had been convinced that Seokjin knew something about that. But Seokjin truthfully didn’t. If that’s what Namjoon was doing, he hadn’t mentioned a single word of it to him.

But Seokjin planned to ask him about it, and as soon as possible.

“Who was on the phone?” Seokjin asked. “Namjoon?”

“No. It was V. But Rap Mon is coming. I think everyone is coming.”

“They don’t all need to come,” Seokjin said, feeling the strands of Jungkook’s relatively short hair pass through his fingers. “What happened tonight was bad, right?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said simply. “But I think they need to come. We’re family, right?”

Seokjin didn’t know how they were all going to get into the room, at least past the watchful night nurses, but he figured if anyone could manage it, Namjoon and the rest of Bangtan could.

He didn’t mean to drift off while they waited for the others to arrive, but it seemed like something inevitable. His body was still trying to recover from the shock of therapy, and he felt safe now that Jungkook was in the room.

Even though Jungkook had just moments ago threatened to cripple someone, and absolutely still had a loaded gun on him, sleep came easily.

Seokjin truly wondered if he was becoming more accepting of it all, or juts desensitized. He wondered which was worse.

He fell asleep all the same, and when he woke up it was to someone running their fingers through his hair, much like Seokjin did for Jungkook, and he quiet murmur of voices.

“Hey,” Namjoon said softly, and those were his fingers going through Seokjin’s hair. “Sorry to wake you up.”

Seokjin blinked quickly at the clock across the room, trying to clear his vision. He’d slept for several hours after Myungsoo had been in his room, and somehow the whole of Bangtan’s inner circle had gotten past the night nurses. Because they were all in his room now. All of them.

“It’s okay,” Seokjin insisted, and he gladly accepted Namjoon’s help sitting up and adjusting the bed. He was sore, so sore, but moving felt good, too. “Are you guys all right?”

“Are we okay?” Taehyung sked in disbelief. “You’re the one who had Myungsoo gracing your presence.”

“Well, he didn’t exactly come to murder me,” Seokjin said, nudging a nearby Jungkook at bit for a glass of water once more. “Which is more than I think you can claim with Infinite tonight.”

“So you say,” Yoongi ground out, but he didn’t look convinced.

After he’d had his water, Seokjin insisted, “No, he seemed really insistent that he wanted to talk about the same thing that Dongwoo did. At least at first.”

 With some disbelief, Jimin cut in, “You’re telling me Myungsoo risked everything coming here to talk to you about his dead boss? How is that Kim Sunggyu has been dead for almost a year and everyone in the gang still has a hardon for him?”

Jimin’s words were crude, but not all that inaccurate.

“Yes,” Seokjin said slowly. “But I don’t think he risked anything. He knew he was in the clear coming up here. He didn’t think Bangtan would even know until well after he was gone.”

Jimin snorted loudly. “Idiot.”

“Over confident,” Namjoon mused, his fingers pausing from where they’d gone from Seokjin’s hair down to his hand. Holding onto him, Namjoon reminded, “That’s what got Infinite last time. Being over confident and underestimating us. I can’t believe they’d make the same mistakes again.”

Hoseok mused, “I can’t believe they thought we’d make the same mistake twice with you.”

Seokjin looked around the room, to Yoongi who was standing by the window, and Jimin who was pacing near him. Taehyung was sitting on the sofa, and Hoseok had perched on the arm of it. Namjoon was in his customary seat next to the bed, and Jungkook looked like he’d climbed on the bed the moment Seokjin had fallen asleep, and hadn’t moved. They were all tense, all seemed on edge, and Seokjin stopped to consider how horrible the night had been for them all.

Seokjin had slept through a lot of the mess that night had turned out to be, and then Jungkook had been there when Myungsoo had come by. But the others? They hadn’t been so lucky.

“The truth seemed important to Myungsoo,” Seokjin reasoned, looking at Jimin. “I saw the same look on his face that I saw on Dongwoo’s.”

“What look?”

Seokjin said, “The look of someone who desperately wanted me to be a liar. And then the terrible realization of what the truth actually was.”

Jimin didn’t look like he had any sympathy for Infinite, and that was just as well.

“It still seems like an awfully big risk to come here,” Hoseok spoke up. “Just for some answers that I’m certain he already read in the police report.”

Not just for some answers that could have been gleamed from a report. Nothing that simple.

“Sunggyu was everything to Infinite,” Seokjin mused. “I’m starting to understand that the more I talk to the members—without them trying to kill me, of course. In a way, I think they’re still obsessed with him—still trying to act like he’s alive. And they can’t let him go. He wasn’t just a boss to a lot of them. He was a lot more.”

Looking to him, Namjoon offered up, “They can’t bring him back.”

“No, that’s true,” Seokjin agreed. “His gray matter splattered all over our kitchen. But I think more the idea of him? Myungsoo was talking about taking Infinite back to the top, and he seemed to indicate that he was doing it for Sunggyu, or because that’s what Sunggyu had wanted. I’m not sure Myungsoo even wants to be doing what he’s doing, but it seems like he feels as if he has no other choice.”

“So he’s it then?” Yoongi wondered. “He’s leading Infinite?”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin said honestly. “I tried to get him to cop to that, because it’s either him or Hoya, but he was evasive. Not on purpose, though. And then Jungkook showed up and he wasn’t interested in talking at all.”

Jungkook demanded a little, “Did you want me to wait until he started making more threats? He had a gun on you, Jin. Wasn’t it enough that he said he was gonna come for you, or for Jonghyun, and hell, even that kid you like so much? Samuel.”

Jimin startled, furry lighting its way across his face. None of the other members seemed to notice, but Seokjin could see it. He could see everything Jimin was capable of all in one flash of emotion, and all of it was reserved for Myungsoo in that moment.

“Jin?” Jungkook prompted.

Seokjin wasn’t faulting Jungkook in any way. He just thought maybe he could have gotten more information if Jungkook hadn’t arrived when he did.

“Do you think it’s him?” Namjoon asked Seokjin. “Do you think Myungsoo’s calling the shots? Did you get that impression from him tonight?”

“I just don’t know,” Seokjin replied. “He wasn’t being evasive on purpose. But I also think his heart’s not in Infinite anymore—I think the only thing that attracted him to Infinite in the first place and won his loyalty was Sunggyu. If Myungsoo is in charge, it probably isn’t what he wants, but more what he feels like has to happen.”

Forcefully, Jimin said, “I think it’s Hoya. I’m telling you guys, Myungsoo’s not an alpha. And that’s what you gotta be to lead a gang.”

“Alpha?” Taehyung asked.

“Yeah, you know.” Jimin said, “Someone aggressive and willing to make tough calls. I’m not saying you gotta be like that all the time, but it has to be in you. That leadership thing.”

And clearly Jimin thought Myunsoo was more of a follower, and less of a leader. Thought Jimin also probably thought Myungsoo was dead in that moment, or would be shortly, and by his hand.

“Hoya’s all that and then some,” Hoseok reasoned out, “but he’s by no means the brains of the operation. And a leader has to be smart, too. They have to be able to think on their feet and improvise. Hoya is built for strength and force. He couldn’t think his way out of a paper bag at lunch time.”

On the bed, Jungkook shifted a little onto Seokjin’s legs, warming them, and said, “If they were smart, they’d be working together.”

Namjoon said softly, “Power isn’t something easy to share.”

Yoongi grossed, “You share way too much with me sometimes. Feel free to take back as much as you want.”

Namjoon cracked a smile then, and Seokjin felt more at ease than before.

“How’d you all get in here?” Seokjin questioned, looking from face to face. “The max capacity on this room for visitors is one, but Minah pulled some strings and got that bumped up to two. So how’d you all get past the night nurses?”

Dryly, Jimin said, “My sparkling personality.”

“Liar,” Taehyung accused right away. He turned big brown eyes on Seokjin sand said, “I asked nicely.”

Slowly, Seokjin repeated, “You asked nicely?”

Taehyung nodded. “Nurse Soo was very accommodating when I asked her nicely and said please.”

“No way,” Seokjin insisted.

Hoseok gave a laugh and said, “She has a brother who used to be in Bangtan. He went away to study abroad about a month ago. She got us in here.”

It seemed as if Bangtan had connections everywhere. And that wasn’t a bad thing.

After just one more sip of water, and feeling assured that he wasn’t going to fall back asleep in a minute or two, Seokjin turned to Namjoon and said, “Myungsoo didn’t just come to ask about Sunggyu. He wanted to know if I’d told Dongwoo the truth—that was important to him to know. But I think mainly he came to issue a warning.”

“Excuse me?” Namjoon’s eyes cut into slits and he looked decidedly a lot more dangerous.

“That’s what he said,” Seokjin relayed. “I guess he decided to tell me to pass it along to you, for effect. Very dramatic.” Seokjin said the last bit in a less than amused way.

“What message?” Yoongi broke in. “We’re already fighting with Infinite. Don’t tell me he wants to have a sit down and talk about our problems.”

“Hardly,” Seokjin replied. “I think it’s very safe to say that no matter who is leading Infinite, they would like very much to wipe Bangtan off the map. It’s personal now.” As much as it saddened Seokjin to say it, he had to add, “I think if ever there was a time for trying to resolve things peacefully, that went the way of Sunggyu’s death. And I also don’t think it matters who’s leading Infinite. All that matters is that Infinite is out for blood.”

“Agreed,” Namjoon grunted out.

Having the full attention of the room, Seokjin said, “Myungsoo said that he thought it was awfully dirty that you brought in Exo to tip the scale in your favor, but he accepts that it happened. I think that’s maybe telling right there.”

“That he planned to do the same,” Hoseok volunteered. “Or Sunggyu did, and maybe we just beat him to it.”

Seokjin nodded. “That’s what I think. The point is, Myungsoo said it’s fine that you’re working with Exo, because apparently Infinite has someone on their side too—and no, before you ask, he didn’t even begin to hint at who it could be.”

Evenly, Yoongi said, “We knew they were getting help already.”

With a shrug, Jungkook offered up, “It’s nice to get confirmation, though. Right?”

“What’s the warning?” Namjoon broke in sharply. “What message did he want you to pass on to me, Jin?”

Seokjin felt Jungkook’s hand wrap around his ankle, almost as if his brother was holding him up in some way. It was support he appreciated.

“It was definitely a warning,” Seokjin told Namjoon, slotting their fingers together. “He said it’s perfectly fine that you’ve got Exo in your corner, mainly because Infinite’s got someone too. But he’s accusing you of trying to bring other players in and further disrupt the balance. Namjoon, he seemed convinced that I knew something about you bringing in another gang to help handle Infinite.”

Before Namjoon could reply, Taehyung burst out, “That’s not true at all! We haven’t brought anyone in!”

“Infinite thinks otherwise, and they’re not going to stand for it, apparently.”

Firmly, Namjoon assured, “We have not brought anyone in. There is no one else we’re working with other than Exo. That’s the only alliance we have.”

The thing was, Seokjin believed Namjoon when he was talking. He didn’t think Namjoon would lie to him, firstly, and there was also nothing but honesty written across Namjoon’s face. He seemed as perplexed and unsure as Seokjin on the matter. Unless Namjoon was a spectacular actor, he was telling the truth about not knowing what Myungsoo was talking about.

“He seems to think otherwise,” Seokjin said bluntly. “And he’d like you to know that if you don’t do something about that, he’s going to take it up with you personally, using me. And then my clinic, and then people I care about, like Jonghyun, and Samuel.”

“That is not going to happen,” Jimin said sharply, anger biting into his words.

Swallowing hard, Seokjin tried to keep his voice even as he said, “He can threaten me all he wants, Namjoon. I’m not afraid to be threatened. But my clinic? Someone like Samuel?”

Jimin’s posture was all tense, wound up like a coil, as he promised, “Over my dead body.”

“Of course it’s not gonna happen, Jin,” Jungkook chimed in.

“Now I’m very aware,” Seokjin said to Namjoon, ignoring both of those outbursts, “that people trying to leverage me against you is nothing new, but if it’s going to happen, I’d like to know all of the details surrounding it. So what’s going on?”

Now, with something hoarse in his voice, Namjoon insisted “Whatever he thinks is going on, he’s wrong about. Exo is the only gang we’re allied to. There is no one else.”

Gripping Namjoon’s fingers tighter, Seokjin advised, “There’s definitely someone else. But who is it?”

In a worried way, Yoongi asked, “Who’s here that we don’t know about?”

“And why does Infinite think we’re working with them?” Hoseok added.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon said quietly, in a thoughtful way, and not without a dangerous edge. “But I plan to find out.”

“Good.” Seokjin swallowed hard. “Because it’s still a very relevant thing that I have a target painted on my back, and we can use that. But I’d like to have it there for the right reason, and not because someone is creeping into this area and painting it for me.”

Namjoon’s thumb brushed over the IV protruding from back of Seokjin’s hand, and he swore, “We’re going to find out what’s going on, okay? I won’t let whoever this is put you in danger. I swear I will.”

“I know you will,” Seokjin said confidently. “I’m just worried about who you’re going to find.”

“Don’t be worried about who it is,” Namjoon vowed, “be worried about what I’m going to do to them for this.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Yoongi confirmed, “In the morning we’ll go hunting.”

Seokjin ventured, “But tonight?”

Pressing a kiss to the side of his head, Namjoon said, “Tonight we stay here. With you. We keep our family whole and safe.”

“Okay,” Seokjin breathed out. Willing, just for tonight, to let that be enough.


	43. Chapter Forty-Three

If Seokjin had his way, he absolutely would have preferred to be at work. He was a workaholic by nature, and he felt the most comfortable, and the most a home in his clinic. Nothing felt better than being surrounded by bleached walls, knowing there were patients waiting for him, and smelling the antiseptic in the air.

But maybe a close second? What he was doing now. Vegging out on the sofa in the living room, several chocopies at his side from a very dutiful boyfriend, and his e-reader loaded up enough medical reviews and essays to keep him occupied for the duration of his medically imposed home stay.

So would he have liked to be at the clinic? Of course. That was where he felt the most alive. But this was an okay alternative, at least for now. And especially if he had good company like he did now.

“You’re such a goober,” Jonghyun said, stirring a teaspoon of sugar into his tea.

“I was just thinking nice things in my head about you, too.”

“You are, though.” Jonghyun taste tested his tea, something that he rarely drank, and added a pinch more of sugar. Most of the time Jonghyun was glued to the coffee machine. But Seokjin had offered tea, and only had tea in the house currently, and Jonghyun was less picky than he made himself out to be at times.

“And how is that?” Seokjin asked.

Masterfully, like he’d been doing it forever, Jonghyun stretched a leg out to use his foot to nudge Yebin back onto her blanket. Well over six months now she was a crawling machine, and the apartment Seokjin lived in was not baby proof. But Yebin was also mostly content to stay in place and play with her toys, so as long as Jonghyun kept her from getting distracted and crawling off, she’d stay put.

“Because,” Jonghyun said, shifting a little closer on the chair he was sitting in towards Seokjin, “you’ve got a pad of paper and a pencil, and you’re taking notes by hand about the medial journal you’re reading. This isn’t 1908, Jin.”

“And that makes me a goober?” Seokjin rolled his eyes. He waved his pad of paper at Jonghyun, showing off the full sheet of paper. “Maybe longhand takes more time, and is antiquated, but it’s easier for me to organize important material that way, and unlike you I have pretty decent handwriting so I can actually read the notes I take.”

“Oh man, sick burn.”

Seokjin chuckled a little. “I always take notes when I read something good or interesting or relevant. It’s just how my brain works. It’s how I categorize and retain information.”

Jonghyun defended, “I take notes, too. I think any decent doctor who cares about the material they’re learning takes notes. But I don’t write it out by hand like we’re living in North Korea.”

Seokjin scoffed. “Don’t be silly. You know they don’t have paper and pens in North Korea.”

A statement like that shouldn’t have been funny. The suffering of other Koreans should have never been funny, but Seokjin laughed all the same, because having Jonghyun come and visit him was entertaining, and it was passing the time, and Seokjin truly enjoyed their banter.

“More like they’re not even literate in most of North Korea,” Jonghyun corrected, but he just sounded sad then.

Breaking the falling mood of the room, Yebin practically threw herself down on the blanket laid out on the hardwood floor, and began flinging her toys around as if they’d personally offended her. Her cries were even more pitchy now than they’d been the last time Seokjin had heard them, and stronger.

“There’s my girl,” Jonghyun said with mock enthusiasm. “Five won says it’s a dirty diaper?”

“A fool’s bet,” Seokjin insisted. “With her, she could just be bored we’re talking to each other, and not her.”

There was no lie there, but a few seconds later Jonghyun announced it was a dirty diaper.

“You want to get in on this?” Jonghyun asked, getting up from his seat and retrieving Yebin’s diaper bag which had been placed a little ways away. Then he was wrangling Yebin down, pushing at her twisting limbs, and trying to get her to cooperate enough to change her diaper. Seokjin was half certain she was going to get away from him at some point and start crawling through the apartment naked, trailing poop everywhere.

He imagined Namjoon coming home to that.

“But you’re doing so well,” Seokjin said with another laugh. “I’m giving you full marks for effort. We’ll see about the end result, however.”

“It’s not easy,” Jonghyun commented. But he had a great system down, and seemed to be comfortable working with a twisting baby. Seokjin was rather impressed watching it all unfold, especially with how quick Jonghyun was and how fast he got her back into her outfit and playing contently with her toys.

“I’m impressed,” Seokjin made sure to tell him.

Disposing of the soiled diaper, Jonghyun reminded, “You should have pitched in. You do still plan to have kids one day, right?”

“Yes,” Seokjin revealed. “But not anytime soon.”

“That’s what I thought,” Jonghyun said in an amused way. “Anyway, whether you have a kid today or tomorrow or a year from now, trust me, you want to know how to do all this ahead of time. Don’t be at the bottom of the learning curve like I was.”

“How about I pitch in on the next one?”

Jonghyun sat back on his knees and sighed before saying, “Nah. You better stay where you are. You’re still sore, aren’t you?”

“It’s more of a residual soreness,” Seokjin revealed. The surgery had been several days ago now, and all of the initial pain had long since past. Maybe the discomfort he was feeling now was just phantom pain. Such a thing happened. But he still had a tight feeling in his chest that crossed from sore and uncomfortable, to borderline painful, if he moved too quickly.

“It’ll go soon enough,” Jonghyun said, sounding more now like a doctor. “If you want me to take a look at the incision site and give you a second opinion, let me know. Otherwise you seem heathy, and you’ve just got to take it easy for a while.”

“I know.” Seokjin fitted the blanket that was thrown across his legs a little more firmly. “It’s just hard sitting still for so long, and not working. I dare you to try it.”

“No way!” Jonghyun winked at him. “You or Key or someone would have to sit on me to make that happen.” He was quick on his feet then, swooping in to pick up Yebin who’d crawled towards the kitchen. He set her back on the blanket and tossed a soft plush toy at her that bounced off her head and was just the right distraction to keep her in place.

“Savage,” Seokjin said after witnessing it, and he was laughing so hard after that his chest pulled.

“Look,” Jonghyun defended with a grin, “when you’ve got a baby like this, you have to get down and dirty sometimes. You have to get creative sometimes. And sometimes, you have to be savage. Remember that, for when there’s a little Jin crawling around here.”

That was a nice thing to think about, but not for some time.

Not until that house outside of Seoul was built in a couple of years, and there was ample room for a dog, and maybe the clinic was even bigger than it was now with more staff so that Seokjin could be there to see every milestone his baby had.

“When that happens, I’ll have a pro to share all the secrets with.”

Jonghyun seemed to beam at that, and he sat himself on the floor, instead of back up on the sofa. Yebin settled into his lap just after that, and Jonghyun was content to keep her there as she gnawed on the very same plush toy that had been thrown at her.

At least she didn’t seem to hold grudges.

Unexpectedly, and without warning they were switching the topic, Jonghyun said, “The police contacted Key and I the other day.”

Seokjin’s eyes widened. “About what?”

Jonghyun leaned forward to press a kiss to the curls on Yebin’s head. “Her mother.”

Seokjin sat up a little higher. “What? They found her?”

Jonghyun gave a nod.

“Where?” Seokjin demanded.

“Pohang.”

“Where’s that?” Seokjin asked.

Jonghyun bounced Yebin a little and said, “It’s a pretty small coastal town to the East. I guess her family originally came from that area a couple of generations back. There isn’t any living family there, but she must have felt some tie to it, or some kind of familiarity, because that’s where she went. It’s where she’s been living for a couple of months.”

Seokjin’s gaze went straight to Yebin, who was oblivious to it all. “What … um … what’s going to happen now that they found her?”

“Press charges,” Jonghyun said bluntly. “She abandoned her daughter. She didn’t just relinquish custody and her rights, then place Yebin in safe environment so she could take a step back. She abandoned her daughter with a stranger. Shit, Jin, I know you. I know you’re a good person. I know you would have done anything to keep Yebin safe, but Yebin’s mother didn’t know that. You were just some guy—her doctor, no one she really knew. But she left her daughter with you, and she ran. So I imagine what’s coming to her is nothing good.”

Seokjin hadn’t stopped to consider that at all. He tried to be friendly with his patients, and treat them like friends when they needed it, but he was close with very few of them. He always wanted them to feel safe and welcomed in his office, but he also liked to keep a professional boundary between them. Yebin’s mother didn’t know him. She could have been leaving her daughter with someone terrible who could have hurt Yebin.

“She’ll have to find out about this one day,” Seokjin said, nodding to Yebin. “One day, you or Kibum, or someone will have to sit Yebin down and tell her that her mother did this to her. And that is not going to be easy.”

Blowing out a long breath, Jonghyun confessed, “I’m terrified for the day I have to do that. But you know what? When that day does come, she’s going to have me, and she’ll have Key, and together we’re going to be enough for her.”

“She’s lucky to have you,” Seokjin said.

“And,” Jonghyun said slowly, “We won’t be the only family she has. She’s got a second cousin out there. And she’ll be in Yebin’s life.”

Frowning, Seokjin asked, “The cousin who was going to take her?”

Jonghyun nodded. “Key and I haven’t said anything, just in case it falls through, but we’ve been talking with her on the phone pretty regularly. Jin, she’s too young to raise Yebin. She’s got her whole life ahead of her and it’s not a good fit for her to have custody of Yebin. But they’re family, and she still wants to see Yebin and spend time with her, and I think that’s more than fair to her.”

It was going to be really important, Seokjin thought, for Yebin to have a strong female presence in her life as she grew up. And if this cousin could be that, then it was something that would be greatly beneficial.

“Sound good,” Seokjin agreed. Then he couldn’t help himself by asking, “How was the clinic today when you left?”

“Oh my god,” Jonghyun breathed out. “Are you seriously asking me that? Jin, you’ve been out four days—five if we don’t count the day of your surgery where you spent the morning sniffing around the clinic and trying to find a problem.”

“I’m just worried!” Seokjin confessed.

“And you shouldn’t be,” Jonghyun insisted. “Don’t you think you hired good people who care about the clinic?”

Seokjin nodded slowly.

“And,” Jonghyun added, “don’t you think you think those good people that care about the clinic are competent doctors?

“Jonghyun,” Seokjin tried.

“So stop worrying,” Jonghyun ground out firmly. “We’re more than capable of handling the clinic for a couple of weeks on our own, handling problems that come along, and you prepped enough ahead that there probably won’t even be any problems. I know how to run the clinic as its head. Joy can handle your administrative stuff. And Yoona has all of our appointments and public relations covered.”

Seokjin forced himself to take a deep breath. “It’s not that I don’t trust you all. I do. I only hired people that are not only good doctors, but good people, too.. But it’s hard to distance myself from the clinic. It’s hard to take a break.”

Jonghyun pointed out, “You’ve been in the hospital before. You’ve been away from the clinic before. Half a year ago? That was really serious and you were out for weeks then, too.”

“I was in a lot more pain then,” Seokjin replied. He’d come very close to death then, in Sunggyu’s home, and he hadn’t been the only one. “It seemed … more serious, I guess. I was stuck in the hospital, not just resting at home, and I didn’t have my ICD back then.”

Jonghyun let Yebin slide down from his lap to crawl off towards a toy she seemed to particularly like, and he said, “That ICD doesn’t make you invincible.”

“I know that,” Seokjin said flatly. “There’s still a lot I can’t do. And this isn’t a permanent fix, either. There is no permanent fix. But I’m just anxious to get back out there, and start—”

Jonghyun cut in, “—working even longer hours at the clinic because you know your heart has an ICD keeping it on track?”

“Not necessarily,” Seokjin said with a blush. But it had crossed his mind that he could work longer, more intense shifts, with the help of his ICD.

“You need to relax,” Jonghyun offered. “You need to let go of the reigns a little, and realize that we’re not some tiny little clinic any more with three doctors, one nurse, and one receptionist. We’re not struggling to hold on. You can take a step back to get yourself healthy, and we won’t go under because of that.”

With another large exhale, Seokjin said, “I know that logically in my mind. But when it comes to the clinic and my fears for it, I almost never think logically.”

“You’ll get there,” Jonghyun said confidently.  He reached for his long discarded tea, and when he sipped it, it must have been lukewarm at best. “Here,” he said, getting up, lifting Yebin, and depositing her onto Seokjin’s lap. “Watch my girl for a second while I go heat this up.”

Jonghyun was just rounding the corner to the kitchen as Yebin gave a wide yawn and settled down against Seokjin.

She really was a pretty thing when she wasn’t screaming, and she seemed even more precious as her eyes drooped closed and her body started to go lax.

At almost six at night it had to be close to her bedtime, and Seokjin wasn’t surprised that after getting hauled around for the day, and then playing for some time in Seokjin’s apartment, that she was tired. He’d half expected her to want food soon, but sleep seemed to be a priority.

“You mind letting her use you for a cushion?” Jonghyun asked quietly when he emerged from the kitchen with a steaming hot cup of tea. He sat himself on the edge of the sofa and looked at Yebin with such fondness and love. “She’s liable to start screaming if you try and move her when she gets comfortable. Key and I found that out the hard way.”

Grinning through his teeth, Seokjin asked, “You know she’s going to be an unholy terror when she hits two, right?”

“Or the teenage years?” Jonghyun suggested. “I don’t know about the terrible twos, but as soon as she hits thirteen I’m going to very strongly remind her that there’s this thing called bootcamp, and I will sign her up for it if need be.”

“At thirteen?” Seokjin asked incredulously. “I don’t think the military takes recruits quite that young.”

Jonghyun waved him off. “There’s definitely some kind of fast-track pre-military training program for teens out there. There has to be. I’ll find one. Or start one. Whatever.”

Seokjin ran his fingers slowly up and down Yebin’s back as she gave an involuntary twitch, the biggest sign that she was almost completely asleep.

Keeping his voice low, Seokjin said, “I hate to break it to you, Jonghyun, but you better prepare yourself to be the mean dad. Kibum is definitely going to be the cool one.”

“I kind of got that from the start,” Jonghyun told him, “when I was trying to wean Yebin onto solid foods like vegetables, and Key wanted to give her sugary strawberry milk.”

Seokjin suspected quite strongly that Kibum and Jonghyun were going to butt heads over a lot of things concerning Yebin, but they were also going to balance each other out in the best ways. They’d been a strong, formidable team before her, and having her in their lives wasn’t going to change that.

They let her sleep for a little longer, roughly a half hour before Jonghyun stood and stretched, saying, “We should get going. It’s late and now that her sleeping schedule is completely thrown off, I’ve got to feed her and wear her out some more if I’m going to have any chance at sleeping through the night.”

Seokjin felt a real sense of loss when Jonghyun lifted her off him and swayed a little as he coached her to wake up.

“You can stick around for a while more if you want,” Seokjin said. “Jungkook is coming over for dinner tonight, and he claims he’s bringing something good. Considering he thinks with his stomach more than any other part of him, I think it’s safe to say it probably will be something good. I can easily ask him to bring enough for one more.”

“I’ve bothered you enough for today,” Jonghyun insisted, but with a grin on his face. He bent down to hoist up Yebin’s baby bag.

“Don’t tell me you’re running off and leaving me for Key. Is it because I didn’t want to change Yebin’s diaper?”

Teasing, Jonghyun promised, “You know you’re number one in my heart, Jin. Not the guy I’ve been dating forever, and apparently have a kid with, and am typically attached at the hip with. Only you.”

Yebin gave a scream of displeasure at being woken up, but she settled pretty easily.

Ignoring the look to sit down that Jonghyun was giving him, Seokjin pushed back the blanket across his legs and got to his feet. He walked Jonghyun to the door slowly, and asked, “Do you ever plan on making an honest man out of him?”

Seokjin had thought that the question was an easy one—a simple and direct one. But he’d clearly caught Jonghyun off guard by the way he stilled and looked gob smacked.

“You haven’t even thought about it?” Seokjin asked in disbelief.

“No … I mean …I…”

Seokjin winced. “Jonghyun!”

Jonghyun blurted out loudly, “I have a ring!”

Seokjin was the one who was surprised then. “You have a ring?”

Flush in the face, Jonghyun whispered this time, as if Kibum was around the corner, or Yebin was going to tattle, “I’ve had the ring for over a year now, okay?”

Seokjin whispered back, “So why haven’t you asked yet? Are you waiting for him to ask you? You can’t possibly think he’d say no.”

Seokjin almost regretted asking now, because Jonghyun seemed so immediately stressed out, and Yebin wasn’t helping matters by fussing terribly. She wasn’t screaming yet, but she’d get there with time.

“I just … I wanted to wait for the perfect moment.”

Seokjin laughed a little. “I hate to break it to you, Jonghyun. But in real life, the world we currently exist in, there’s no such thing as the perfect moment. Because life isn’t perfect. So if that’s what you’re waiting for, you’re going to be waiting forever.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Jonghyun huffed. “I just … I never wanted to get married before I met Key. I always thought I’d be married to my job. And by the time I realized I wanted to marry Key, his career was taking off, and I had the clinic, and we were struggling just to keep our relationship going.”

Seokjin felt his stomach ball into anxiety. He hadn’t even known there were problems occurring between the two of them. As far as he was concerned, they’d been the perfect couple.

How could he have been so unobservant?

“Get that look off your face,” Jonghyun ordered. “Key and I didn’t advertise our issues for a reason. They’re no one’s business but our own. But yes, if I’m going to be completely honest with you, things weren’t great for a while. I was putting the clinic first, Key was always overseas, and we hardly saw enough of each other. That’s the real reason he transitioned away from modeling and into design, Jin. That’s the real reason he moved home to Seoul more permanently. Because we knew our relationship was going to fall apart otherwise, and I couldn’t exactly pick up the clinic and move it to Milan, or Paris, or London.”

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin said heavily, feeling like he’d played a part in what his friends had been going through underneath his nose. “I put a lot of pressure on you with the clinic. And I didn’t see what that pressure was doing to you.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Jonghyun said, and he didn’t sound like he wanted the apology. “Jin, you gave me something amazing with the clinic, and Key always understood that from the start. We thought we could make the distance work, but we couldn’t. So we adapted and made some changes. If it was too much, I could have quit. I could have found a replacement for me and I could have left to join Key instead of the other way around.”

No matter what Jonghyun said, Seokjin still felt guilty.

“It’s just ironic,” Jonghyun said, “that it wasn’t until our relationship was falling apart, that I realized how much I wanted to marry him.”

“But you did make those changes,” Seokjin urged. “And it doesn’t look like either of you is unhappy now.”

“We’re not,” Jonghyun agreed. “And I was definitely working up the courage to pop the question earlier this year. I wanted to make sure despite all the growth the clinic has gone through lately, that it’s still stable. And I wanted Key to have time to make progress with his fashion line. But then Yebin came into our lives, and now I don’t want to rock the boat. I’m surprised the boat hasn’t overturned at this point, so there will be no rocking of it.”

Yebin’s big hazel eyes tracked Jonghyun’s mouth as he spoke, and she’d absolutely caught her own name and recognized it. That was important developmental growth that Seokjin was happy to see from her, at least as her temporary pediatrician.

Seokjin kept trying to push Yebin in the direction of Hongbin for primary care, but Kibum was having none of it.

“So you still plan to,” Seokjin inferred, “you just keep hitting speedbumps along the way.”

“Exactly,” Jonghyun said. “Honestly, Jin, we’re just trying to figure out our family right now. We got a kid ages ahead of when it was supposed to happen. And we don’t regret taking her for a second, but a kid changes everything. Our relationship is changing because of her. And until we get that smoothed out, I don’t want to ask Key to marry me. I don’t want to put that pressure and weight on us on top of everything else.”

That made sense in a lot of ways, and ultimately, Seokjin had to agree with Jonghyun’s thought process.

“You’re my best friend,” Jonghyun said bluntly. “I trust you to tell me if I’m making a mistake here.”

“No.” Seokjin shook his head. “You thought this through, and you’re not wrong. You need to carve out some stability for Yebin, and get things going with her in your life. And when the dust settles—and it will settle, that’s when you and Kibum can focus on the two of you again.”

Jonghyun looked relieved at his words. “Thanks, Jin. I love Key. He’s the person I want to marry and raise a kid with. I just think we’ve been going through a lot for a while, and adding one more thing to the pile might collapse us.”

Squeezing Jonghyun’s arm supportively, Seokjin said, “Well, when the time comes, and you are ready to pop the question, you should know that Namjoon and I are more than happy to watch Yebin for the night to give you guys some space and privacy.”

Snorting, Jonghyun asked, “You want me to leave my baby with your gang leader boyfriend.”

“That’s not fair,” Seokjin said sharply.

“That’s also not a lie,” Jonghyun replied. “Namjoon is a nice guy, Jin. I like him a lot, and I’d be an idiot and a liar to say he hasn’t done some real good for the neighborhood. He’s actually the reason a lot of our patients will come to us, and not be afraid, and I am grateful to him for that. Even if he wasn’t your boyfriend, I’d like him.”

“But?” Seokjin prompted.

“But he runs a gang,” Jonghyun said point blank. “Which means he’s constantly surrounded by danger and trouble. You’re a grown adult, Jin. If that’s something you want to play with, then by all means play. But let’s not get Yebin involved, okay? Let’s not play with fire like that.”

Seriously, Seokjin said, “Namjoon, if he was responsible for Yebin, would never let anything happen to her.”

Jonghyun pursed his lips bloodless for a moment, then said, “If we’re talking about Kim Namjoon, then yes, I believe that. I’d trust my daughter with him. But he isn’t just Kim Namjoon, is he? To other, very dangerous people, he’s Rap Monster, and those are the people that will paint the target on him and anyone else near him.”

For just a moment Seokjin was reminded of Myungsoo, and the threat he’d so easily lobbed in the direction of Yebin. Jonghyun was too close to the truth and he didn’t even know it.

Seokjin pointed out, “When the two of you had to go down to the court house Kibum left Yebin with Namjoon and I.”

“You mean he left her with you, and your boyfriend came along after that.”

Seokjin hated how defensive the whole subject made him. But he wasn’t going to back down, and he understood why Jonghyun couldn’t either. Being a parent had changed him in so many visible ways already.

“I just … want to be careful with her for a while,” Jonghyun settled for saying. “I trust you. I trust Namjoon. It’s the rest of the world I don’t trust.”

A smile split across Seokjin’s face. “That’s such a dad thing to say.”

Yebin’s face scrunched up as she began to cry, and Jonghyun told Seokjin honestly, “I would leave her with Namjoon if I had to. I’d leave her with the both of you willingly. I just want you to consider that she is isn’t even a year old. And if something catastrophic happened because of who Namjoon is and what he does, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself. She wouldn’t even be able to run. That’s what I think about when I consider who to leave my daughter with. And that’s something I think you can only understand when you are a parent.”

And that … that was fair enough.

“Okay,” Seokjin said simply. “I understand.”

“Thank you,” Jonghyun said, voice going gruff a little. “I need that to be clear to you, Jin. It’s not that I don’t like Namjoon or trust him. It’s all the other stuff that worries me.”

“It worries me, too,” Seokjin admitted. “And I don’t even have a kid yet.”

Jonghyun pressed a wet kiss to Yebin’s cheek that she appeared to hate, and he said, “Well, why do you think I went first with this parent thing? I can totally give you tips and tricks for when it’s your turn. That’s what hyung is here for, right?”

“Get out,” Seokjin ordered, laughing loudly. He nudged Jonghyun further towards the door.

“Hyung will help you!” Jonghyun insisted.

“I hate you,” Seokjin insisted, pushing again. “Now leave, unless you want to stay for dinner. In which case come back.”

“I’m going,” Jonghyun said, hefting Yebin up a little and stepped out of the apartment when Seokjin opened the door. “Thanks for the offer of dinner, but I do want to get home. I traded an afternoon shift for an early morning one at the clinic tomorrow, and I’d like to turn in early tonight.”

“The sun isn’t even down,” Seokjin pointed out. “Old man.”

“You’ll get here, too,” Jonghyun said, practically promised.

Seokjin waved to him as he went down the stairs carefully, and then he went back in the apartment to tidy up a little.

He’d only straightened up a couple of items in the apartment, and washed Jonghyun’s tea mug, and moved a few things around, before he felt utterly exhausted.

Minah had warned him that he’d feel that way for some time, and it was the same advice Seokjin would have given any of his patients. But it was a hard thing to cope with, considering Seokjin was used to being up on his feet all day long, and working extended shifts at the clinic sometimes. It was a feeling of being easily exhausted that would pass soon enough if he rested and let his body mend, but right now it felt like he’d never get back to where he was.

He was still feeling winded when Jungkook arrived a short while later.

“Jin!” Jungkook called out loudly when he entered the apartment. His arms were loaded up with plastic bags and brown take-out boxes.

“I’m right here,” Seokjin said, waving an arm out at him from the sofa. He’d gone back to his medical journals because contrary to how boring most people found the often dry material, Seokjin truly enjoyed them. “As always.”

“Wait a minute,” Jungkook said, dropping the food off in the kitchen and then coming quickly back to the living room. “It looks lusciously too clean in here. Jin! You’re not supposed to be doing anything but resting.”

Arching an eyebrow, Seokjin pointed out, “Unlike your apartment, mine is always clean.”

“My place is clean, too!”

Standing up slowly, Seokjin accepted a hand from Jungkook and let his younger, stronger brother pull him to his feet. “I have seen your apartment no less than a week ago, Jungkook. Who do you think you’re kidding with that statement?”

The two of them walked slowly into the kitchen and whatever food Jungkook had brought, it certainly smelled good.

“I think,” Jungkook said diplomatically, “there are different levels of cleanliness. And maybe I don’t want my apartment smelling like bleach all the time like yours does.”

Seokjin poked through a bag and said absently, “I’d be satisfied if you’d just clean your bathroom once a week.”

“Nag at Jimin, too, okay?”

Seokjin said, “Trust me. I do. I consider him more responsible than you, and some days I think I’m relying on him to keep you breathing.”

Jungkook had clearly brought fried chicken, Seokjin discovered a moment after that. Of course his brother had brought the most unhealthy thing he could possibly think of.

“And,” Jungkook said pointedly, “I brought you samgyeopsal.”

Seokjin gave pause over the pork dish. It was probably worse in terms of calories and fat than the fried chicken. But if ever there was something he defined as comfort food, it was samgyeopsal.

Jungkook was a saint for clearly going out of his way to bring it to him, when it would have been much easier to just pick up the chicken and be done with it.

“Did I ever tell you why I like samgyeopsal so much?” Seokjin asked. They spread the food out in front of them in a careful way, and Seokjin even allowed himself one piece of fried chicken. He’d been eating nothing but fruits, vegetables, and soy over the past few days. And even he liked to have something rich and unhealthy once in a while.

Jungkook shook his head, but guessed, “Because it’s really good?”

“It is,” Seokjin agreed. He portioned some pork out onto a piece of lettuce and piled hot vegetables on top. It wasn’t the same experience as having it home cooked or in a restaurant, but it was more than enough in the moment. “But I like it so much, at least I think I like it so much, because this is the first meal I ever remember mom making for me.”

A piece of chicken halfway to his mouth, Jungkook went still. “Really?”

“Really,” Seokjin said. “She’d make it for me all the time—more than I think she wanted to, but she always did when I asked. I think she felt guilty in a lot of ways that her eldest daughter was off doing all kinds of amazing things with kids her age, and I was stuck at home with her a lot, indoors, doing quieter, less active things. So she indulged me.”

Seokjin had fond memories of watching her cook. By no means had she been an amazing cook, and she’d burned just as much as she’d gotten right. But she’d mastered important dishes, and for Seokjin, it was more about getting to cook with her, than the food that actually came out.

“Did … um … did I …”

Seokjin sensed the direction of that jumble of words, and moved quickly to say, “You had a special dish she’d make you, too.”

Jungkook’s face lit. “I did?”

“Well, sort of,” Seokjin chuckled out.

“What’s that mean?” Jungkook demanded.

Seokjin could see the way he was craving answers, almost wholly consumed by the idea of having something special he’d shared exclusively with their mother. Half the time Jungkook acted uninterested in her because he had so few memories of her. But other times Seokjin could tell he valued and cherished every bit of her that he could.

“It was dad’s favorite dish,” Seokjin said. “Remember what that is?”

“That’s an easy one,” Jungkook scoffed. “Haemul kalguksu. Seafood knife noodles.”

“Good,” Seokjin praised. “When you were really little, the five of us would go down to visit Uncle’s house in Jeju. And dad liked to go because that was a dish mom could make well, and when we went to Jeju, she had really fresh ingredients to work with.”

Seokjin remembered going to the sea with his uncle early in the morning to buy shrimp and shellfish from the fishing boats coming in.  If there was time, they’d stay and have a snack, or talk with some of the vendors. But then they’d go back and deliver the ingredients to Seokjin’s mother who’d make the best haemul kalguksu Seokjin had ever had in his life.

Still to the day.

“That was dad’s favorite dish, so mom would make it for him whenever she thought he needed to smile more.”

Jungkook interjected, “So all the time?”

“Pretty much.” It meant the world that they were having a conversation about their father right now without an ounce of pain or regret or anger. “And you were just old enough to want things, but still little enough that you wanted the things that other people wanted. So mom would make you your own special bowl, usually with more broth and noodles than seafood, and you’d eat it up like you were trying to give dad a run for his money. Mom should have known right then and there the size your stomach would end up being.”

In a disappointed way, Jungkook said, “I wish I could remember.”

Seokjin poked Jungkook with the ends of his chopsticks not handling the food, and told him, “I’m remembering for you. You’d sit next to dad—on his lap when you were really little, and you two would eat haemul kalguksu together. I know you don’t remember that, Jungkook. And all the memories you have of dad are from after the accident, when he kind of shut himself off from the world. But he loved it more than you did. He loved eating the haemul kalguksu, with you on his lap, seeing which of you could slurp the longer noodle.”

There was a dreamy look on Jungkook’s face, and Seokjin hoped he was imagining what such a scene looked like.

“I’ll remember anything you need me to remember,” Seokjin vowed.  “And I won’t ever let you think mom didn’t love you the most.”

Jungkook scoffed. “Yeah right.”

“Seriously.” Jungkook was still shaking his head when Seokjin pressed on, “You were her baby, and she doted on you, and spoiled you, and treated you like a prince. She loved all her children, Jungkook. She was an amazing woman and mother. But you? After I came along, mom and dad weren’t going to have any more children. Dad told me once that they started using protection and he had seriously considered a vasectomy.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook asked skeptically. “Then what was I? And oopsie baby?”

Seokjin took a bite of his own chicken. “No, you were an impossible odds, baby. Because they were using protection, and you were still conceived. You were that one percent. You were a miracle.”

“Miracle,” Jungkook echoed warily.

Seokjin insisted, “You absolutely were a surprise baby, but a much loved and wanted one. Especially by mom. Because dad? He had our older sister that he favored. And me? I was so delicate back then that mom couldn’t do much with me. But you? Jungkook, you were everything to her. You were her favorite. And even if you don’t have memories of her like I do, I want you to understand that you were her everything.”

Jungkook seemed to ponder those words for a moment, then replied in a way that had Seokjin completely unbalanced, “That’s just stupid. You’re the best son ever. You should have been her favorite.”

Jungkook sounded offended on behalf of Seokjin, and that sent Seokjin into a fit of giggles.

“Anyway,” Seokjin pressed on. “You should just know, if you ever feel like you never got to have time with mom, or that your memories aren’t enough, I’ve got you covered. And even if you can’t remember her, you need to know you were her everything. In fact, she was the only one who ever got you to sit still.”

Puzzled, Jungkook questioned, “How?” As if he was aware of his constant need to move as well.

“That was her secret to keep.” Seokjin shrugged. “She’d sit you down and read to you for hours, or talk to you about her job—about the publishing industry, or nothing you should have had any clue about. But you’d sit there with her, and listen, and you wouldn’t move a muscle. You guys had that kind of bond. You were like that together. Thick as thieves.”

Jungkook swallowed down a lump of something in his throat, and Seokjin didn’t think it was chicken, before he said, “Thanks, Jin.”

Seokjin smiled into a bite of pork and said, “No problem. I’m just doing my best to make up for that time I dropped you on your head.”

“Jin!”

Seokjin had plans to bait him along for a short while longer, when suddenly there was a heavy pounding on the front door.

“Expecting company?” Jungkook asked. He got to his feet in a solid way, and ordered, “Stay here until I know who it is.”

Seokjin ignored him, naturally, and followed close enough behind him that he saw who was at the front door the same time as Jungkook.

“Thank you for calling ahead,” Seokjin said dryly as Jimin dashed his way into the apartment.  “I really appreciate the consideration.”

Jungkook’s body relaxed as he closed the door, and when he leaned forward to do so, Seokjin could absolutely see the outline of a gun tucked into his back of his belt.

“What’s wrong?” Seokjin asked Jimin, tearing his attention away from Jungkook.

“You told me you told Rap Mon about what happened when we went to that conference of yours!”

There was perspiration on Jimin’s face and he looked worried.

“No,” Seokjin said slowly, realization and worry dawning on him. “I said … I said I was going to.”

And then he’d promptly forgotten. He’d spent forever worrying about it, and talking himself into it, and then he’d let the matter go completely like it was nothing. But it wasn’t nothing. And he hadn’t just forgotten to come clean about meeting with the Triad that controlled the area down there. He’d forgotten the words of warning they’d passed along to him.

“And did you?” Jimin demanded.

Seokjin shook his head.

“No!” Jimin agreed. “You didn’t. Because he just found out about it from me! And now the both of us are seriously fucked.”

Jungkook said, “I’m just seriously confused. What’s going on?”

“How badly did he take it?” Seokjin asked, grimacing. “And why did you mention it?”

“Don’t you put this on me,” Jimin warned.

“No, I mean, what made you bring it up?” Seokjin wasn’t trying to avoid the blame. Jimin had believed him when Seokjin had said he’d tell Namjoon. Jimin hadn’t thought twice about trusting him to do it. And then Seokjin hadn’t.

Wringing his hands in a nervous way, Jimin reminded, “We’re trying to find out what Myungsoo was talking about, right? What he threatened you over?”

“The help that he seems to think Bangtan is calling in.”

Jungkook asked, in an excited way, “You found out who it is?”

Seokjin wanted to know, “There actually is someone?”

Head cocking, Jimin asked, “Who do you think it is since I’m bring this up?”

Seokjin needed to sit down. He fumbled his way backwards for a moment until he found a seat in the living room.

“You okay?” Jungkook asked worriedly, trailing after him.

Seokjin ignored him to ask Jimin, “What are Triad doing here?”

“Triad?” Jungkook echoed. “Who the hell is a Triad?”

Jimin mumbled quickly to Jungkook, “It’s a group of minor gangs to the East.” Then Jimin’s attention swung back to Seokjin and he said, “The second I realized who was in town, I said something to Rap Mon, which let him know pretty quickly that there was a lot he didn’t know about our little trip!”

“How mad is he?” Seokjin asked.

Jimin said plainly, “He looked at me like he wanted to strangle the life out of me on the spot, and like he probably would have tried if we hadn’t been in mixed company. I don’t think he’s going to look at you like that, obviously, but when he comes home tonight, you might want to brace for impact. It’s not going to be good.”

No. It wasn’t going to be good. It was going to be very, very bad.

Looking between the two of them, Jungkook asked in a wary way, “How would the two of you have anything to do with this Triad? Or even know about them?”

Jimin laughed in a decidedly unfunny way. “Oh man, Jungkook. You’re gonna love this.”

This was…this was gonna be even worse than bad.

“Jimin,” Seokjin breathed out. “Is Namjoon coming home right now?”

“No,” Jimin said immediately, and at least that was some relief. “He’s got to deal with the fact that he has not one, but three uninvited gangs in his area right now. He has to deal with how that makes him look not only to Infinite, but Exo as well. And he has to find out why they’re here in the first place. So if I had to hazard a guess, he won’t be home for some time. I just came straight here because I thought you could do with a head’s up.”

“Thank you,” Seokjin said sincerely.

Jimin rushed out, “And because I am a selfish bastard and I know you’re smarter than me. So my plan here to give you as much time as possible to come up with something really good, so when Rap Mon does corner the both of us, you don’t get yelled at, and I don’t get maimed.”

“Brilliant,” Seokjin said unenthusiastically.

Jimin’s expression did soften then, and he said, “Jin, you said you were going to tell him. You didn’t. You realize he has a right to be pissed? Especially since this isn’t your personal business. This is Bangtan’s business. Do you get how bad this situation is? Do you get how this makes Bangtan look? Him look?”

“I know,” Seokjin breathed out. Anxiety burned in him and he felt so, so guilty. He never wanted to be the person who put Namjoon in any kind of compromised position. And his own forgetfulness had done just that. “Is it bad with Exo? Because of this?”

Jimin carded his fingers through his hair, flopping the strands back in frustration. “It won’t be good. Because now it looks like Rap Mon is going behind Suho’s back to bring in extra help. To Suho, it’s probably gonna look like Rap Mon is planning to cut Suho out. And if Exo turns on us right now … I dunno if we can handle Exo and Infinite at the same time.”

Hands shaking, Seokjin clasped his fingers together and tried to stop the movement. If he was the reason Bangtan and Exo’s alliance dissolved …

“Oh, shit,” Seokjin heard Jungkook breathe out.

“Jin.” Jimin put a hand on his shoulder, and then he squeezed. It was a significant thing, coming from Jimin, especially in the presence of Jungkook. “We’ll be okay. You know that, right? Whatever happens.”

When Seokjin looked up at him, Jimin had a forced, but comforting expression of insistence on his face. Seokjin really did appreciate the attempt on his part.

Nervously, Jungkook shifted beside them.

“That’s nice of you to say,” Seokjin managed, but he felt crushed. And so, so disappointed in himself.

The smell of the food in the kitchen was wafting over to them, and Seokjin said with a sigh to Jimin, “Jungkook brought dinner. Do you want to eat some? There’s nothing we can do about the situation right now. Might as well have a last meal, right?” His attempt at lightening the mood fell short.

“Fried chicken,” Jungkook boasted with a thumbs up.

“I don’t know,” Jimin replied. “My stomach does not feel good right now.”

“Come eat with us,” Seokjin beckoned, unsure what else to do. “We can brainstorm together what I’m going to say when Namjoon gets here.”

Jungkook stated, heading for the kitchen, “I just want someone to tell me how this all happened.”

Jimin allowed Seokjin to herd him into the kitchen.

Jimin said once more, “You should have told him already. You said you were going to. We wouldn’t be in this situation if you had.” He didn’t mean it in an accusatory way, certainly not from the tone in his voice. But it still felt that way.

“I know,” Seokjin mumbled. “I know.”              

He wondered how bad the explosion was going to be when Namjoon got home. And if there was anything that could be done to salvage the situation. Even if he felt like he didn’t deserve it.


	44. Chapter Forty-Four

To his credit, Jungkook had listened attentively, without comment or opinion, when Seokjin told him what had happened during the conference he’d gone to attend earlier that year. Or at least the part that Seokjin himself had played in the event.

And though it really had happened just a few months earlier, it nearly felt like a lifetime ago. Especially considering what had happened in-between that time frame.

Jimin interjected when it as necessary or appropriate, but for the most part, it was Seokjin’s story to tell, and he told Jungkook everything. He even told Jungkook the stuff he hadn’t told Jimin. The things he should have told Namjoon.

And when he was done, Jungkook leaned back in his seat, gave Seokjin a once over, and said, “I don’t understand how you get yourself into these messes, Jin.”

He sounded awed, but certainly not in a good way.

“This is all your fault,” Seokjin said succinctly. “You started this snowball a year ago, and it’s just been picking up speed ever since. You just had to go join a gang.” He wasn’t seriously lobbing the accusation, but as time ticked by, and Namjoon was closer and closer to coming home, Seokjin felt the noose around his neck tightening.

“Don’t blame this on me,” Jungkook argued back. “I don’t make you do anything—no one makes you do anything. And you’re just as thankful now as I am, that Bangtan is in our lives.”

Seokjin put his hands on his knees and leaned forward a little. Dinner had been good, but the food was starting to settle now, and he felt sick as if the meal was souring in him.

“Well,” Jungkook said with a sigh, “at least gang leaders end up liking you more than wanting you dead. That’s good.”

“I wish they wouldn’t notice me at all,” Seokjin replied.

Standing across the room, with his arms crossed over his chest, Jimin pointed out, “As long as Rap Mon is who he is, and you’re willing to stand by his side, it’s always going to be like this.”

“Not always like this,” Seokjin returned. “This dramatic and dangerous. Above the norm.”

Jimin shrugged. “No telling for sure.”

That didn’t make Seokjin feel any better.

But by that point the time was getting late, and Seokjin knew Jungkook had school the next day, so he turned to his brother and said, “You should head home, okay?”

“And leave you here for the shitstorm that’s about to blow in?”

Seokjin arched an eyebrow at his brother’s language, and said, “You don’t need to be a part of what’s coming next. The truth is, I messed up. I’m the one who knowingly misled Namjoon, and kept important information from him. And then when it was time to fess up, I conveniently let myself forget. This is on me, and I think you being here might actually hurt the situation.”

He didn’t want Jungkook speaking up for him, or defending him, or just being Jungkook. Because Seokjin wasn’t some victim, and he didn’t need Jungkook trying to divert any of Namjoon’s anger away. Whatever Namjoon sent Seokjin’s way, it was deserved.

“I don’t feel good about just leaving,” Jungkook squeaked out. “I could just crash here tonight, you know? Sleep on the sofa? Close to the door if I need to make a hasty retreat.”

Seokjin appreciated the sentiment, but had to tell Jungkook, “This isn’t going to be ground zero tonight, Jungkook. There will be some yelling, I think, but everything will be fine.” Seokjin didn’t believe that, not really, but he needed Jungkook to.

Darkly, Jungkook insisted, “No one should be yelling at you right now. You just got out of the hospital.”

Jimin smothered down a grin as Seokjin reminded, “I had surgery almost a week ago. And remember, the ICD improves my quality of life in every way. I love you, Jungkook, and I don’t mean this in a harsh way, but go home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Jungkook seemed utterly indecisive for some time, before saying, “Can I borrow your car? I took the bus halfway, and walked the rest.”

“How can you still not have a car?” Jimin asked.

Chest puffing out a little, Jungkook said, “I’ll have one by the start of next week. Or at least the money for one. Apparently there’s extra paperwork when your car gets totaled because of bullet holes and that sort of trauma. I had to deal with the police, you know, and they do not like me, my last name, or my family.”

Seokjin nodded to the hook near the door where the car keys were hanging. “Of course you can take the car. Bring it back tomorrow morning, okay? Before nine. I have to be at the clinic fairly early.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook said, going for the keys. He paused at the door and asked Jimin, “You coming?”

“You should,” Seokjin told him, standing from where he’d been sitting at the kitchen table. Keeping himself busy he started to clean up the relatively small mess they’d created.

“You can’t be serious,” Jimin said sharply, even snorting a little. “Get off that martyr’s high horse you’re riding around on. I’m the one who started this whole thing. I’m the one who basically tried to guilt you into it. I’m not going to be some coward who stands back and lets you take one hundred percent of the fall.”

“I’m not asking you to—”

Jimin interrupted, “I told you we’d go down there, I’d poke around a little, and no one had to know. But then the plan went to shit, and it was my fault. I got careless. I asked too many questions. And you had to bail me out.”

Seokjin recalled it all a little differently, and said, “It’s not as if I was forced into a car and threatened, or even mistreated. I get the feeling that if I had refused to go with the Triad when they showed up at the convention, they would have left me alone. And I don’t think they would have hurt you. I mainly went because I didn’t want to let my dad’s car out of my sight.”

He was downplaying the situation, naturally. He’d been scared, of course. And though he did stand by the belief that no one would have been hurt even if he’d been uncooperative, he’d worried for Jimin. He hadn’t just gone because his father’s car was involved. He’d also gone, mainly so, because Jimin was missing.

Jungkook’s jaw fell open a little. “Seriously?”

Shrugging, Seokjin said, “I’ve got a soft spot for the car, okay?”

“You …” Jungkook struggled for words.

Seokjin added, further addling him, “They took me to a very nice house, were very respectful the entire time, and offered refreshments. In fact, they were some of the most cordial people I’ve been in in contact with for some time.”

“You know that old internet meme?” Jungkook said suddenly to Jimin. “Is this the real life, or is this just fantasy? That’s me right now. I don’t know what world I’m living in right at the moment, but it can’t be the real one.”

It absolutely looked like Jimin was struggling not to laugh, as he forced himself to say seriously, “The point is, if I hadn’t been poking around, you would have gone to your conference and no one would have bothered you or put you in danger in any way. So I’m not going to let you act like you masterminded this plan. All you did was try and help me out—numerous times. Oh, but you didn’t fess up when you should have. That’s all on you.”

Couldn’t forget that part, naturally.

“Well now I have to stay,” Jungkook announced.

“No,” Seokjin said firmly. “You have class tomorrow. So you need to go home, and do some studying, and then go to bed at a decent time. Because you’re putting a lot of time and dedication into this semester, Jungkook. And if you sabotage yourself at the last second, I think you’ll be even more disappointed than I will be.”

“Jin,” Jungkook whined out lowly.

Jimin whispered, “Dad mode activated.”

It took a couple more minutes to actually get Jungkook out the door—edging him along slowly, but Seokjin managed it. And he was pleased to find that while he’d been busy doing that, Jimin had finished cleaning up in the kitchen. All of the trash was thrown away, and the few dishes they’d used, were cleaned and placed on the drying wrack.

Inquisitively, and a little teasing, Seokjin commented, “So now that you’ve proven that you are capable of washing dishes and properly cleaning a room, what will be your excuse the next time I come over to your place and I find it dirty?”

Leaning back on a countertop, Jimin offered, “That I’m barely into my twenties and cleaning is about as fun to me as a root canal?”

Seokjin pointed out, “I’ve seen your dental work. You could use a root canal.”

Jimin cracked a smile. “I could see you being a dentist. You’re picky like dentists are.”

“That is both an insult to me, and several dentists I know.” Seokjin turned from the kitchen to have a seat back in the living room. His e-reader was nearby, as was the remote to the television, but neither held much appeal.

Jimin trailed into the living room and asked, “So is this what we’re doing for the next couple of hours? Sitting around looking sad?”

“I’m not sad,” Seokjin said.  “I’m just thinking about what I want to say to Namjoon. And I’m worried about what he’ll say to me.”

“He loves you,” Jimin said in a dismissive way. “Even if he’s mad at you, you’re not going to get it as bad as you could.”

Quickly, Seokjin said, “Not that, actually. I’m more interested in what he’s going to say about the Triad. Why are they here now? Why pop up like this? What’s their game? Do you know anything?”

Jimin shook his head as he sat on a nearby armchair. “When I realized I’d spilled the beans to Rap Mon about knowing the Triad, and your run in with them during the conference, I high tailed it out of there as fast as humanly possible. I know that Rap Mon was about to have a sit down with the leaders of the Triad—the three of them are in town, but that’s it. I have no clue what kind of information was planned to be passed between them, if any at all.”

Seokjin wondered how long a meeting like that could last. Namjoon could be terribly patient when he wanted to be, and resilient when digging for information he wanted to know. He could still be at some sit-down, trying to whittle information out of three men who’d unified their gangs.

Absolutely certain he’d go crazy if that’s what he spent the next couple of hours doing, Seokjin asked, “How’s it going with Samuel?”

“Excuse me?” Jimin sputtered.

“You know, the underaged child you stated a romantic relationship with.”

Jimin, with a shout of outrage, lobbed a heavy decorative pillow at Seokjin’s head. The fact that he’d thrown it at him with real force, and was one of the few people not treating Seokjin like he was made of glass, was rather refreshing.

“How about you be my friend and not paint me in some pedophiliac light.”

“Calm down,” Seokjin said, and used the pillow to prop himself up better on the sofa. “I know you, Jimin. I know you’re not monster. I’m just teasing.”

“How about you tease me over something less traumatic.”

“You’re right,” Seokjin agreed. And more seriously, he asked again, “How is it going with him?”

“How’s it going?” Jimin asked, still sounding angry and frustrated. “How does it feel to be romantically and sexually attracted to a child? How about you guess?”

No, Seokjin decided a moment later. It wasn’t anger and frustration. It was embarrassment and hurt.

Seokjin patted the spot next to him on the sofa.

“I’m fine over here,” Jimin said gruffly.

Seokjin commented, “You’ve lived with Jungkook too long if you think that was an optional pat.” He patted the sofa again for good measure. “It really wasn’t.”

Begrudgingly, Jimin got up and shuffled over to the sofa, then sat himself.

“You are not,” Seokjin said, putting a hand on Jimin’s should and wrenching him a bit closer, “sexually attracted to a child.”

He tried to leave no doubt or room for argument in his voice, but Jimin reminded anyway, “He’s sixteen.”

“And sixteen is not six,” Seokjin said sternly. “Listen to me as your friend, telling you some cold hard truths. Yes, the age of consent in America is eighteen in most states, including the one he’s from. And yes, I do think that sixteen is too young for anyone to be having intercourse.”

“You can just say sex,” Jimin told him.

“Sex,” Seokjin said then, but he’d thought intercourse in his mind, when he’d been laying out what he meant to say. He often thought in odd terminology or medical slang. It was simply something that occurred from his constant proximity to the medical field. “Physically, most if not all people are fully developed biologically and in terms of reproduction, by sixteen. But you’re old enough to know that sex isn’t just about the physical aspect of what goes where. Sex is an emotional thing, especially in adolescents, and at sixteen the brain is hardly done developing.”

In an amused way, a self-amused way, Jimin commented, “I bet that big brain of yours was developed then.”

Seokjin allowed him slight smile. “Neurologically, the brain doesn’t fully develop until a person is into their twenties. So at sixteen Samuel’s brain is still developing, particularly in the regions of the brain associated with risk and reward, copiability, and the processing of complex situations, emotions, and thoughts.”

Jimin slumped back on the sofa. “So you’re telling me that I’m having sexual thoughts about someone who can’t properly look at a situation, decide it’s bad, and not do something he’ll regret later on. Great.”

Without hesitation, Seokjin pinched him hard.

“Stop that!” Jimin ordered, rubbing his thigh where Seokjin had pinched him. “Why do you always do that!”

“Because it’s effective,” Seokjin told him bluntly. “And you’re not listening. I’m saying that biologically Samuel is no child. In many parts of the world, he’s at the age of consent already, or the age of marriage. But he’s American, so you need to respect that country’s laws. And what I truly want you to understand is that you’re not a monster for being sexually attracted to someone who is biologically mature. I’m just saying you can’t have any healthy kind of romantic relationship with him right now because his brain can’t properly process something as complicated as love. Not yet.”

There was a frown on Jimin’s face, but he didn’t say anything.

“Yet,” Seokjin said again.

“Two years is a long wait,” Jimin said softly.

Not so certain, Seokjin said, “I’d wait a hundred years for someone I loved.”

“I’m seriously going to throw up on you,” Jimin warned. But then he allowed, “I don’t love him, you know. I like him a lot, and I’m very attracted to him. Plus, he … he gets me. You know what I mean. He just gets me, and a lot of people don’t. When I don’t want to talk, and I’m angry or upset about something, he gets me and he just … I guess instinctively knows what to say or do—or what not to. That’s fucking amazing to me. I’ve never had someone in my life like that. At least that I can remember. But that doesn’t mean I love him.”

That was about the most emotionally honest Jimin had ever been with him, at least about someone who wasn’t Seokjin. And Seokjin wondered for a moment if it had taken something out of Jimin to admit to how he truly felt about Samuel. But for as difficult as it must have been, Jimin didn’t look overly upset, or put out, or anything Seokjin had expected.

Seokjin dared to hope that it was proof positive that his gradual and supportive efforts to bring Jimin out of his shell, were working.

In response to what Jimin had said, Seokjin replied, “I certainly hope you don’t love him. How could you love someone you don’t really know?”

Jimin said, “Rap Mon claims he loved you from the very second he saw you.”

Seokjin scoffed, “Well, he’d been shot at the time, and he was delirious, so I don’t think that we can accurately trust anything he says about that moment.”

Jimin seemed to be grinding down on his teeth anxiously before he admitted, “I think I loved you at first sight, too.”

“Seriously?” It had gotten easier and easier to talk about Jimin’s feelings for him, and that was a good thing. The didn’t talk about the topic very often, almost never at all, but when they did, it was with calmness, acceptance, and honesty. That was all Seokjin had ever really wanted. And he believed Jimin when he said his feelings were passing, and that he was moving on.

Seokjin suspected, of course, that a bit of Jimin would always love him a little. That was how Jimin was—he had an addictive personality. But if Jimin could find peace and acceptance with someone else, Seokjin could be satisfied with the whole mess.

“Yeah,” Jimin huffed out, not meeting Seokjin’s eyes. “How could I not?” He didn’t elaborate on that.

Letting the silence stew between them for a short while, Seokjin had no problem sitting and waiting.

And eventually, his patience paid off, because Jimin looked at him seriously and said, “But I could.”

“You could what?”

Jimin cleared his throat and clarified, “I could see myself loving someone like Samuel. Easily, too.”

“You know what? I could too.” Seokjin knocked his knee against Jimin’s and clarified, “Probably not in the way you could, but he’s a likable person, and he’s someone that a person could love very easily.” Seokjin already felt terribly invested in Samuel and how his future turned out. Seokjin didn’t want to go as far as to say he’d adopted Samuel in any way, but he was certainly attached.

Going listless for a second, Jimin said, “You want to know how it’s going between us?”

“You’re talking, right?”

Jimin gave a short laugh. “Yeah, we’re talking. And sure, I was pissed at him for lying to me, and for leading me on in a way, and for kind of stomping out the part of me that had to relearn to think it was okay to take another chance on love. But it’s like … I almost feel like none of that even happen.”

Seokjin felt confusion mar his face.

“I mean,” Jimin pressed on, “we talk on the phone, and hang out together, and it feels … it feels just like it did before. It feels good, and it feels right, and it’s like I never lost my friend.”

“That is good!” Seokjin praised.

“Hardly,” Jimin hissed out. “Because it’s not just the friendship I’m feeling again. All the other feelings? All those shitty emotions that tell me how easily I could fall in love with him? That’s what’s rearing up, too. And I don’t want that to happen, Jin. That can’t happen. I can’t be in love with someone that I can’t have again.”

Scooting forward a little on the sofa in Jimin’s direction, Seokjin asked, “Would it be so hard to wait a couple of years?”

“What?”

Seokjin told him, “Samuel is staying in Korea for at least another year. But he’s got two years of school left, so I wouldn’t be surprised that if he has a good experience this year, that he extends that. And by the time he’s out of high school, he’ll be legally old enough for you to have a relationship with. He’ll be a lot more mature, too. What’s stopping you from cultivating a great friendship right now, and then something more along the way? The best relationships are the ones built on strong friendships.”

Looking anxious now, Jimin allowed, “Because you seem to think I’m this really awesome guy, Jin—and that’s super delusional of you by the way, because I’m not. And I don’t think I can be around Samuel and not want more than just friendship. I don’t even trust myself not to want to kiss him—or that I won’t.”

And Samuel, Seokjin suspected, wouldn’t fight a loss of control from Jimin. Samuel was very much infatuated with Jimin, and on his own path to loving him. So if Jimin made a move, Samuel wasn’t going to push him away.

“Then what’s your next move?” Seokjin asked. “Give up one of the best friendships you’ve ever had?”

“No!” Jimin said reactively, sharply and louder than expected. He flushed at his own elation. “No,” he said more quietly. “I don’t want that either.”

With no real answers to give, much to his disappointment, Seokjin told Jimin, “Then you don’t have a lot of options here. Is there a happy medium somewhere? I don’t know. But I also don’t know what to tell you to do about this. Especially if your feelings for him are that strong.”

“Sucks,” Jimin bit out. “Sucks a lot.”

Seokjin side-eyed him, then said, “I have ice cream in my freezer.”

“You what?” Jimin’s head craned towards him. “Ice cream?”

“Red bean flavored, and mint.” Seokjin explained quickly, “I bought those for a movie night that Namjoon and I had to cancel at the last second, and I’ve been hiding them from Jungkook ever since. But this seems like an emergency moment, so I say you should go get those tubs and we should eat them.”

Suspiciously, Jimin said, “This sounds like a scene out of an American RomCom.”

As if he was offended, Seokjin said, “I assure you, men can have emotional moments over tubs of ice cream.”

“You had me at red bean,” Jimin assured.

And that was how he and Jimin ended up sitting in the living room, watching a game of baseball on the television, waiting for Namjoon to come home and rip them to pieces.

At some point, Seokjin fell asleep. The last thing he remembered was watching a commercial on the television, a half eaten tub of mint ice cream more melted than not on the table. He remembered glancing at the clock, worried it was closer to midnight than he’d expected, and then Jimin had shuffled off to use the bathroom.

Nothing after that.

Nothing until he heard the sound of the lock on the front door turning, and he was startling awake.

“It’s just me,” Namjoon said, looking a lot less angry than Seokjin had expected. Mostly he looked tired, and also worried that he’d startled Seokjin in some way. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Seokjin assured, fumbling for the remote to turn off the late-night infomercial that was playing. The clock on the wall near the television said it was just past two in the morning, and Jimin was curled up on the other side of the sofa, snoring quietly

Swallowing hard, Seokjin got up and carefully maneuvered around Jimin, to reach Namjoon’s side.

“I … you met with the Triad tonight?”

Namjoon’s eyes flickered over to Jimin’s sleeping form, and he commented without amusement, “I’m not surprised he scurried over here to tell you everything. You two seem to love covering for each other.”

And there was the anger Seokjin had expected.

“That’s not …” Seokjin stopped himself, and instead said, “I want to explain what happened. None of it is Jimin’s fault. At least most of it isn’t. I was the one who—”

“You know what, Jin?” Namjoon asked sharply. “I’m tired, okay? I just got done sitting in a room with three people I don’t trust, and had to listen to them tell me about the adventures you got into while you were supposed to be at a conference, and then chose not to say anything about. I felt like a fool, and I probably looked like it And then? Then I had to try to explain to Suho why it looked like I was going behind his back. And you know what? I don’t think he believed me. So I really don’t want to hear anything you have to say tonight. Not right now. Right now, I just want to go to bed.”

Namjoon put his keys down in the wicker basket next to the door and started off towards the bedroom.

Seokjin had expected anger from Namjoon, and accusations of a lack of trust, and for it to be a hard conversation to have. But he hadn’t expected Namjoon to be completely dismissive.

Seokjin felt like he’d been sucker punched, and his toes curled up against the hardwood floor as a chill settled over him.

Namjoon was almost to the bedroom door when Seokjin called out faintly, “Do you want me to … should I sleep out here tonight? On the sofa with Jimin?” He’s never felt so much like an outsider in his own home.

Namjoon’s shoulders were full of tension, his posture terrible, as he turned back to Seokjin to ask, “I don’t know. Are you my boyfriend, or are you his?”

Insulted, Seokjin said, “Maybe I’ll just stay out here after all if you need to ask that.”

“You think I don’t have a reason to be angry at you?” Namjoon asked with an accusing look. “You don’t think I have a reason to be utterly pissed off that you and Jimin went behind my back to do something I explicitly said not to, and had a run in with a rival gang, and still said nothing?”

“I think you have a reason to be angry,” Seokjin replied, holding steady. “I don’t think you have any plausible reason to question my feelings for you. Because if you do, this relationship is already over.”

Wilting before his eyes, Namjoon practically whispered, “Come to bed.” Then he turned away from Seokjin, and disappeared into their bedroom.

Seokjin lingered out in the living room for a bit longer, shutting off the lights, putting a blanket more firmly over Jimin, and double checking the place was locked up tight. He told himself he was being thorough, but really he was hoping that Namjoon would fall asleep before Seokjin got in the room.

That obviously wasn’t going to be the case, he discovered, when he entered the bedroom to find Namjoon laying on his side of the bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, hands folded over his stomach.

“Are you sure?” Seokjin asked, uncertain. If they needed distance between them, if only for a little bit, Seokjin was more than happy to provide. Especially if it eased something between them.

“I love you,” Namjoon said simply. “And I want you in my bed.”

Seokjin shrugged off his shirt, careful of his chest and how it was still a bit tender, and climbed slowly into bed.

Usually he nudged right up to Namjoon and pressed in close. But now he stayed firmly on his side of the bed, nearly worried he’d breathe too loud and set off some sort of fight. He hated the tiptoeing that was happening. It was ridiculous that it was.

He closed his eyes, and tried his best to fall asleep as quickly as possible. But worry over what would happen in the morning, and the knowledge that Namjoon was both so close and so far away, kept him awake for a long time. And based on Namjoon’s breathing, Namjoon was awake with him.

“This is stupid,” Namjoon said after it was closer to three than two, and he rolled towards Seokjin without hesitation. One arm of his came around Seokjin’s waist in a heavy but secure way, and Namjoon’s nose pressed into Seokjin’s neck. “I’m mad at you, but I love you and I want to sleep some time tonight. So either kick me in the balls or let me hold you.”

Instead of answering him, Seokjin only tugged Namjoon’s arm at little tighter around his waist, and blissfully let himself find some peace and rest.

Seokjin woke up to an empty bed in the morning, however.

For half a moment, a brief but wonderful one, he forgot all about the night before, and what was heading his way that morning. But then it came back to him in a rush, and when he put his hand down on Namjoon’s side of the bed, it was still warm.

He probably could have talked himself into staying in bed a bit longer, but he’d resolved yesterday to fess up to absolutely everything, and take whatever the consequences were. And he hadn’t changed his mind.

Seokjin got out of bed, carefully put a shirt on, and wrapped his robe around him. He paused at the door to the bedroom, because somewhere in the apartment he could hear muffled voices, but when he realized it was impossible to make out what was being said, he forged head.

Namjoon and Jimin were seated in the living room, and they both looked stiff and uncomfortable.

Seokjin felt like he was wading into the deep end of something terrible.

“You’re up,” Namjoon commented when he saw Seokjin. His face gave nothing away of what he was thinking, shaded neutral.

Seokjin accused, “You started without me.”

Namjoon replied, “Kind of sucks being left out of something important, doesn’t it?’

Jimin gave a visible wince, and Seokjin forced himself not to reply. He wasn’t one to be cowed, or talked down to. But Namjoon was angry, and hurt, and Seokjin had caused that. So he could endure.

“Jimin,” Namjoon told him, “was just telling me that he basically conned you into taking him along to your conference.”

“Hardly,” Seokjin defended, right away. He wasn’t some naïve boy who could be tricked into anything.

“I manipulated you,” Jimin insisted, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t twist your arm, but I knew what I was doing, using your feelings for me against you.”

“My feelings for you?” Seokjin blinked at him.

“Our friendship,” Jimin corrected. “I knew that if I put enough emotional pressure on you, that you’d cave. I knew that if I made it seem like I was only asking for a small favor, that you’d be willing to help me out. No matter what it cost you.” Jimin held his gaze. “I knew what I was doing, getting you invited. I manipulated you, and that’s the truth.”

“But you weren’t doing it maliciously,” Seokjin told him, “or with an aim to hurt anyone. You were, in fact, concerned that if you didn’t act, something terrible would happen.”

And the road to hell, the infamous saying went, was paved with good intentions.

Aggressively, even authoritatively, Namjoon rumbled at Jimin, “I told you to keep your nose out of Triad business. I told you, not as your friend, but as the leader of Bangtan, to drop the subject. But you decided to undermine me, and to use my boyfriend to do so.”

“I don’t think,” Seokjin started to say.

Namjoon cut him off, “And you? You decided it would be a good idea to go along with Jimin undermining me. You thought it would be perfectly fine if he went into someone else’s territory and risked the fragile peace we have right now, as long as the both of you lied really well about it.”

Standing in the threshold between the hallway to the bedroom and the living room, Seokjin admitted, “I thought that you didn’t have to know.” He felt so dirty admitting it.

“And that’s my problem,” Namjoon said.  “You thought you didn’t have to be honest with me about doing something really shady with my own gang. You know Jin, of all the things I might have expected from you, this was the furthest from my mind.”

Jimin, who’d previously been sitting on the sofa, got to his feet and insisted, “It was my fault. I’m the one who convinced him that I could get in and out without being caught. I told him nothing bad would happen if I could just make sure the Triad weren’t a threat. And I didn’t think you needed to know, either.”

“No,” Namjoon countered angrily, “you thought that you were going to find something down there that vindicated your feelings on the Triad, and you decided to drag the person I love into that perceived danger, just to feel right. Just to be right.”

Seokjin was having a hard time figuring out if Namjoon was made at Jimin for what he’d done, or just for bringing Seokjin with him.

“I wanted to help my friend,” Seokjin mumbled out.

Namjoon went quiet and looked back to Seokjin. “What?”

Squaring his shoulders a little, Seokjin explained, “I’m not excusing my actions, but I wanted to help a friend. I wanted to help someone I value as a friend. I just didn’t know how to do it without hurting you. So I thought Jimin could go to the conference with me, and find absolutely nothing on the Triad, but still be satisfied. I thought I could swing it in a way that made both of you happy.”

“By lying,” Namjoon said.

“Yes,” Seokjin had to admit. “You didn’t want him down there. But Jimin was upset that you didn’t believe him and you weren’t listening. That hurt me as Jimin’s friend.”

Seokjin still remembered how destroyed Jimin had seemed when he’d realized that Namjoon wasn’t willing to put stock in his hunch. Jimin had looked betrayed.

“Lying was wrong,” Seokjin continued. “And I’m sorry that I did lie to you. You deserve better than that. You deserve more respect than someone you trust lying to you. I just couldn’t see a way to please the both of you, and I wanted to.”

Namjoon shook his head. “You had no business helping Jimin go against my orders, and you knew that from the start, which makes your apology worthless. Jin, this isn’t a problem between me and you, right now. This is a problem between me, you, and Bangtan. Because you didn’t just find nothing there. You found trouble, and you put all of us in a terrible spot—without even telling anyone.”

Jimin snorted. “A terrible spot? They gave him tea and preened around him like he was a new pet.”

Shouting now, Namjoon demanded, “What if your stupid plan to go near the Triad had ended up getting Jin hurt? Or killed?”

“He…” Jimin tried.

“You have no excuse for putting him in danger like that, or letting him be used in any way for the kind of business you wanted to get into there! But you didn’t stop to consider what could have gone wrong. You only thought about yourself, your own gut feeling, and you selfishly risked the most important thing in this world to me.”

Jimin said, looking pale, “I wouldn’t have let—”

“You think you could have done anything!” Seokjin’s ears hurt from the volume at which Namjoon was yelling. And Jimin looked startled like he’d never been on the receiving end of such a thing. “You were in way over your head, and there is nothing you would have been able to do to stop Jin from being killed if that’s what any one of the Triad had wanted. That’s on you, Jimin. You could have been the one responsible for Jin’s death. And that’s why you’ve lost my trust.”

Jimin visibly wavered on his feet.

“I will never trust you again like I did before,” Namjoon warned. “And I will never trust you with Jin.”

“Namjoon,” Seokjin said sharply, moving more fully into the living room. “You can’t say that.”

“I’ll say whatever I damn well please!” Seokjin wondered if their neighbors could hear them, or the men outside. “You could have died, Jin! You could have been held as a bargaining chip. Anything could have happened, and Jimin didn’t once think about that.” Namjoon’s steely gaze moved back to the man in question. “Did you? Go ahead. Deny it. To my face, tell me you thought about everything bad that could happen to Jin, and that you just decided to go ahead with it anyway.”

The silence in the room was deafening.

“I thought as much,” Namjoon struck out with piercing words.

Jimin sat fully on the sofa, looking bereft, and Seokjin wondered how the situation had spiraled out of control so quickly.

“Namjoon,” Seokjin called out. “Even if my apology means nothing to you, I am sorry.” There was a cloud of self-imposed regret settling over him now. “I lied to you. And you’re right, what makes it worse is it was about Bangtan. I deliberately put myself into Bangtan’s business, and that wasn’t right.”

Reeking of irritation, Namjoon asked, “Do you know what it felt like to have to sit across from three people, certainly not my allies, who knew more about what happened during that conference than me? I had to listen to them, gleefully too, I might add, tell me all about your adventures with them. So you didn’t just lie to me, Seokjin. You made me look foolish, and you made Bangtan look weak.”

Seokjin tried to breathe normally, but his chest was burning with apprehension, and it felt like he couldn’t get enough oxygen.

“More than that,” Namjoon continued, striking like a viper, “I had to look Suho in the face, and beg him to believe me when I said I had no idea what was going on with you and the Triad. Do you get how that made me look? Do you get how that made Bangtan look?”

“I just—” Seokjin tried.

Namjoon came down in full force, looking a bit crazed, “Weak! That’s the fucking word you're looking for, Jin. It makes us look like we’re weak and like we’re liars. At best it makes me look like I’m using you to do my dirty work, and at worst? At worst it looks like I’m running back door deals with other gangs!”

Jin swayed a bit on his feet, breathing heavily, tears of shame pricking at his eyes.

“I look like an incompetent fool,” Namjoon seethed, “and that is your fault, Jin. I look like I don’t have half the power that I need to in order to keep the peace in this area, and with Infinite bearing down on us, that’s as good as a death sentence. So if any of my men walk over this, or Infinite see this as their perfect opportunity, or if Suho turns on us because of this, it’s on you. Anyone who dies? It’s on you.”

Seokjin blinked rapidly, desperately trying to push back the tears that were on the surface.

He felt so ashamed in himself. He felt so stupid. He wasn’t going to cry because Namjoon was mad at him. He felt like he was going to cry because of the crisis he’d created. And the people who very genuinely could die.

Namjoon took a deep breath, as if he was going in for round two, and Seokjin just didn’t think he could take much more. He'd never had the full force of Namjoon as Rap Monster leveled at him before, never even really seen much of it, and if he was being frank, Seokjin was a little terrified.

“If you were a member of Bangtan,” Namjoon told him frankly, “You’d be out. I’d personally be showing you the door. And with no regrets.”

Those words cut deep into Seokjin. They hurt terribly.

Namjoon told Jimin, “And you? You should be out. The only thing saving your ass right now is your prior sacrifices for this gang, and how much I need you right now—even if I don’t want you. But I mean this, Jimin, if you were anyone else, and I mean anyone else, you’d be out on your ass by now.”

“I understand,” Jimin managed weakly, and now he didn’t just look pale, he looked nauseous. He looked like Namjoon hadn’t just ripped the proverbial rug out from under him, but started beating him with it as well.

Namjoon continued ruthlessly, “You’ll never go anywhere with Jin alone again, at least not on behalf of Bangtan. You’ll never be responsible for driving him home, bringing him anywhere, or anything to do with him point blank. What Jin wants to do with you on his own dime is his business. But not in terms of the gang. And I’ll make sure everyone else knows the reason why. There won’t be anyone who doesn’t know how careless you are, or how irresponsible. And then it’ll be up to them if they want to put their lives in your hands.”

This was the beginning of a panic attack, Seokjin realized, seeing spots before him. This was his anxiety spiraling out of control, and making the oxygen feel thin. This was him standing on the edge of a cliff, nearly nosediving over the edge.

“How could you do this, Jin?”

Seokjin blinked sharply at his name, focusing on Namjoon’s face.

His boyfriend asked him again, “How could you come back here from that conference and omit everything that happened? You sat in a room with the heads of the Triad, Jin. You talked to them about gang business. And you’re the reason they’re here now. You’re the reason Suho is doubting our alliance, and Infinite is gleefully taking advantage of all of this.”

“I meant to tell you,” Seokjin rushed out. “When Jimin actually made contact with the Triad, and I ended up talking to them, I realized this wasn’t something I could keep from you. I knew I had to tell you, and I came back here with every intent to.”

Namjoon scoffed, “And you just forgot?”

“Yes,” Seokjin admitted in a horrified way. “Literally yes!”

Flatly, Namjoon reiterated, “You forgot something that important.”

“A lot happened right at that moment,” Seokjin squeaked out, feeling more like a little boy being reprimanded by his father, than an adult having a heated conversation with his partner. “I … I messed up with that. I let other things become more important than that, and by the time I worked up the courage to tell you—which would mean admitting to everything, it slipped from my mind.”

“Convenient,” Namjoon commented, and he sounded an awful lot like he didn’t believe Seokjin.

“I swear,” Seokjin said. “I swear on Jungkook’s life. I just forgot.”

Namjoon looked away from him, seemingly disgusted that Seokjin could have let such a thing happen.

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin said again, and truly felt it. He managed to get a full gulp of air as he backed away from the cliff that he’d almost tumbled off of. “I made a terrible mistake with everything, but I never meant to hurt anyone. I just … I made a mistake. People make mistakes, Namjoon.”

This was a matter of Bangtan, truly, but Seokjin could see it seeping out of that singular category, and invading his personal relationship with Namjoon. He could see it endangering what they had as a couple. And their future.

“Maybe,” Namjoon told him in a quiet voice, something that sounded worse that the yelling. “But I thought you were better than something like this, Jin. I thought you were better, period.”

It seemed like after that, no one had anything to say. The three of them simply remained there, in that room, still and quiet, awkwardly soaking in the words that had been spoken.

At least until Jimin cleared his throat and asked with worried curiosity, “What do you mean they’re here now because of Jin? The Triad came here because of Jin? How?”

Jimin was right, that was what Namjoon had said, and Seokjin had breezed over the words more concerned with apologizing, than anything else.

“Because,” Namjoon said, glancing between the two of them, “they came specifically to talk about something they deem incredibly important to the stability of the area—as if it isn’t unstable enough as it is. For lack of a better word, they want to hold a summit. But when I asked them yesterday what that something important enough to was, you know, to give Suho a head’s up before we all meet, they refused to say.”

Uncertain and with a frown on his face, Seokjin asked, “How does that involve me?”

“They refused,” Namjoon continued in an unflinching way, “unless you were in the room. Because they like you.” The last few words came out like physical blows, taunting in a way.

Slowly, Seokjin repeated, “They like me?”

“Translation,” Jimin offered up, “they trust you more than they trust anyone else in Bangtan or Exo. Read between the lines. They’re saying you’re more likely to be honest with them, and they want that. You’ll also be easier to get information out of. Bust mostly they probably just want to use you as a lie detector.”

“Of course they do,” Namjoon said in an annoyed way. “And they know that they’re relatively safe if you’re in the room, because I’d never put you in danger.” The unspoken jab at Jimin was too easy to pick up on.

“So they want me in the room,” Seokjin asked for clarification. “For what purpose? To try and wring information out of me? Secrets?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Namjoon replied. “We’re meeting them soon enough.”

Seokjin was surprised at that. “You want me there in that room?”

“No,” Namjoon said in blunt, uncouth way. “But you’re already a part of this, Jin. You made yourself a part of it. So we have to figure out what’s going on, no matter what. And you have to be involved, whether I like it or not.”

The look on Namjoon’s face said he most certainly did not.

“Get out of here,” Namjoon barked suddenly at Jimin. “I can’t even stand to look at you right now. Go talk to Suga. Maybe he has a higher tolerance for insubordination than I do right now.”

There was a heartbreaking look of defeat on Jimin’s face as Namjoon ordered him away. His shoulders bunched up like a protective shell, maybe like the one Seokjin had spent so long trying to break through, and with a quiet, “Yes, sir,” Jimin was gone.

The room felt even smaller without him there.

“Just once more, Seokjin told Namjoon, “I’m so sorry. I’m … I’m just so sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t mean anything,” Namjoon replied back, no emotion in his voice. “Sorry doesn’t fix how you’ve made me look to my own gang, to Exo, or to Infinite. Sorry doesn’t fix how betrayed I feel, and how much more stressed I am, and how I’m not sure I can keep people safe anymore because of this. Because of you. So your sorry doesn’t mean shit, Jin.”

Again, they lapsed into silence, and Namjoon wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Seokjin reached a hand out to the nearby wall to steady himself, his heart beating so hard in his chest that he was certain if he hadn’t had the ICD, he would have experienced some kind of failure already. He still felt light headed and uneasy.

But he had to know one thing.

Terrified of what the answer might be, Seokjin asked, “Are we okay, Namjoon? Are we going to be okay?”

He didn’t mean with the Triad. Nor did he mean with Bangtan or any other group. And he was certain Namjoon understood the question for what it was.

With a hard set to his face, Namjoon said honestly, “I didn’t stop loving you, Jin. I just stopped trusting you.”

To Seokjin, that was even worse.


	45. Chapter Forty-Five

“So, this is what you do what I’m not around?”

Seokjin stepped more fully into the employee break room at the clinic, and spied the spread of curry and Indian side dishes that were laid out on a long table. A large amount of the employees currently on the clock were clustered around the food, which a discarded bag to the side indicated came from a recently opened Indian restaurant that was located less than twenty minutes away by foot.

“Don’t you even try it,” Jonghyun warned. “You’re not supposed to be here and you know it. You come down on us and we’ll rat you out. To Minah. I know she’s the only person you’re truly scared of.”

A little wide eyed, Samuel leaned over to Hongbin and said in an absolute way, “I was assured this was okay. If Doctor Kim is mad, someone here better pull me from the fire.” This told Seokjin that the older members of the staff had probably sent him to go pick up the food, and put him in cohorts automatically.

“It’s fine,” Hongbin said back, not sounding worried at all. “It’s Friday and we all pitched in. Jin’s just upset he wasn’t invited.”

“Because,” Jonghyun stressed, “you’re supposed to be at home resting.”

From behind Seokjin, peeking over his shoulder to wave at the other people in the room, Jungkook assured, “I really tried to keep him from coming down here. I threatened to sit on him. But then I was worried I’d break him. And he said he was pretty sure you guys were gonna have food here, so I gave in. I’m weak. I’m sorry. But hey, are those samosas over there?”

Laughing into a bit of curry on her plate, Jessica chewed, swallowed, and then commented, “You really didn’t fight very hard, Jungkook.”

“You try having Jin for a brother, Jessica. He knows my weaknesses. He knows I’ll give in if there’s a possibility for food.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes.

Jessica winked at Jungkook. “I’ve got my own Jin.”

“Rude!” Krystal called from across the room.

Seokjin stepped more fully into the room, lured in by the smell of curry, and assured them all, “I’m just here visiting. I was bored at home. Honestly, the walls felt like they were starting to close in on me.” That and the guilt that had lingered in the air for days over the matter with the Triad was so thick he could practically choke on it.

“Well,” Jonghyun said, drifting nearer to Seokjin, “as you can see, the place is still standing, no one has burned anything down, and there haven’t been any fatalities.”

Joy glided by Seokjin and said, “But there was a twelve-year-old who got a crayon stuck up his nose.”

“No way!” Jungkook shouted in an excited way.

Even Seokjin was a little skeptical, despite the things he’d seen during his internship and residency, and then after as a practicing doctor. “Whole or in pieces?”

Joy enunciated, wiggling her eyebrows, “Whole.”

Eyes narrowing, Seokjin asked, “Who was attending? Are there scans?”

Reading him like a pro, Joy promised, “I’ll have them emailed to you later today.”

Jonghyun finally reached Seokjin’s side, taking Jungkook’s place as the younger man scurried off to get a plate and load it up with food. Then he asked Seokjin, “I know it’s been well over a week since your surgery now—ten days? Eleven? But you really should be taking it easy, and not playing with fire.”

“I promise, dad,” Seokjin teased, “there was practically no exertion getting over here. Jungkook drove, and surprisingly enough, he drove well. I’m perfectly fine to walk around and talk to people right now. But, if I do start to feel tired, I promise to sit down. Happy?”

In a curious way, Jonghyun called out to Jungkook, “Finally got a car, kid?”

Jungkook had a dough bun of some kind, something toasted a golden brown and looking delicious, shoved into his mouth. But he raised a thumb to Jonghyun’s question.

“Don’t tell me he got something ridiculous like a BMW,” Jonghyun practically pleaded. “Tell me parent-Jin made an appearance and you forced him to get something less flashy.”

Grinning wide, Seokjin said, “He wanted an Escalade. I said no.”

“Thank god,” Jonghyun breathed out.

Seokjin was just glad his nineteen-year-old brother, who had more than enough money to buy whatever car he wanted, regardless of what other people thought, still cared what his brother had to say on the matter.

Jungkook had desperately wanted the luxury SUV that would make him the envy of all his classmates.

But Seokjin had pulled him to the side, away from the salesman, and reminded Jungkook, “You don’t always operate in a lawful fashion. I’m not saying you’re out there robbing banks, but you’re often making a quick getaway, or tangling with undesirable people. Do you really want to be driving something so expensive and showy when that happens? Something so memorable and traceable?”

It had only taken a couple of seconds for Jungkook to come to his senses and settle on something much more reliable and unassuming.

Jungkook could have his Escalade one day if he really wanted it. But Jungkook was a nineteen-year-old college student. And no one who fit that definition, deserved a car that cost more than some houses.

“So you really came down here just because you were bored?” Jonghyun asked. Together they moved to the food and Seokjin made up a plate for himself. His appetite had been steadily growing back, and he’d skipped breakfast that morning so he was more than ready for lunch.

“Bored out of my mind,” Seokjin corrected.

What he didn’t say was he couldn’t stand being in the apartment he shared with Namjoon, wondering when he’d come home and the both of them would exist in a lingering state of awkwardness.

Because that’s what they were these days. Awkward. There was no less love between them than there’d ever been. Namjoon still kissed him reverently, and held him close at night. But there was always an underlying reminder that things had changed between them.

Seokjin had broken Namjoon’s trust, and he didn’t know how to get it back. He didn’t know if he deserved to get it back.

He only knew he was starting to go crazy.

“Okay.” Jonghyun shrugged. “But you could have called ahead.”

“Why?” Seokjin asked. “So you could clean the place up and pretend like you haven’t been getting away with all kinds of things you know I’d nag you about?”

“I take offense to that,” Joy told him. She’s been standing near enough that she’d been able to easily hear their conversation.

Unsure, Seokjin asked, “You do? Why?”

“Because,” Jonghyun answered for her, sounding prideful, “she hasn’t just been keeping your office together, in terms of handling your correspondence and the book keeping and all of that boring stuff that you seem to love.”

“I don’t love it,” Seokjin snuck in.

Jonghyun kept going, “But, she’s also been keeping a tight grip of control on the little stuff none of us thought about, like licensing, and the insurance audit that we had the other day, and the cleaning crew.”

Blushing in a pretty way, Joy insisted, “I’ve just been doing my best.”

Jonghyun seemingly would not be swayed, and said seriously to Seokjin, “She’s been doing all the stuff that could have easily been overlooked, actually not letting us get away with stuff--as if her name was Kim Seokjin, and when the next budget review comes up, I’m voting for her to get another raise.”

“I just got one,” she whispered at him, embarrassed but also rightfully prideful in the compliments being paid to her.

“Like I care,” Jonghyun snorted. “If all of this isn’t overloading you, and if it doesn’t turn out to be too much, we’ve gotta keep you on it indefinitely, whatever the cost.”

“I don’t mind,” she assured.

“Jin.” Jonghyun pulled at his arm gently but firmly. “Imagine having someone who handles the boring stuff we hate. Imagine showing up and just getting to focus on the patients.”

Seokjin nudged him a little and reminded, “That’s not a reality, Jonghyun.”

“Okay,” Jonghyun conceded. “Imagine having less paperwork, and way less to worry about. Imagine being able to take on more complicated cases that patients bring us because we have time to study new stuff, and point our attention in one direction.”

Now that? That greatly appealed to Seokjin. He’d been craving that sort of thing as of late. He’d been thirsting to simply be a doctor. He’d accepted back when the clinic had first opened that he’d have to be a businessman as much as a doctor to keep daily operations going. But now it looked like there was a chance to reduce that kind of demand from him.

Giving up control wasn’t something he liked to do, even if it was to benefit the clinic in some way. But Joy was more than proving herself to be a valuable asset, and someone that Seokjin could see himself giving up control to.

He could still double check her work whenever he wanted, and she still needed to run most things by Seokjin or Jonghyun. But how nice would it be to not have to keep track of billing every single month, and instead have more time to concentrate on helping people.

“Good work,” Seokjin told Joy finally. “The clinic is lucky to have you. I’m lucky to have you.”

“Thank you,” she replied, soaking in the praise.

Joy was just stepping away, and Seokjin was just starting in on his food when Jungkook practically raced to his side to demand, “Is it like here every day? Seriously, Jin, do you have awesome food like this all the time and you just never told me before?”

Peering at Jungkook, Jonghyun asked, “Do you actually have a brain up there in that head of yours? Is there a real brain up there? Or is there just something made of marshmallow or kimchi in there?”

Jungkook gave him a wounded look. “Jonghyun!”

“I’m not trying to be mean,” Jonghyun assured, looking and sounding astounded. “I genuinely want to know if you have a brain up there that you think with, or if you’re completely and utterly dictated by your stomach. Jin, we might have a medical impossibility here. Think of the papers we could publish.”

“You’re not funny,” Jungkook said sourly.

“Eat,” Seokjin told his brother.

“Don’t change the subject,” Jungkook said quickly. “Tell me the truth, Jin. Are you having parties like this every day?”

“It’s not a party,” Seokjin promised. And he paused to take a bite of food that turned out to be delicious. “But for special occasions, or sometimes on Fridays as a thank you to the staff, we’ll order in some food for everyone to share.”

Jungkook poked at Seokjin’s arm. “What are they celebrating? You not being here to breathe down their necks?”

Looking past Jungkook, Seokjin told Jonghyun, “It’s possible he does have marshmallows for brains. I say we dissect to confirm. Imagine the papers we could write, the accolades we’d get, and the reverence of the medical community that could be ours.”

Jonghyun didn’t look impressed as he said, “But we hate those asshats. I mean, sure, some of the medical community is okay. There are a lot of good doctors out there writing worthwhile articles and doing amazing research. But there’s a disproportionate amount of overconfident, egotistical hacks who think they’re the next coming. Do we really care if they recognize our brilliance?”

Seokjin laughed out, “The grants then. Just think about the research grants.”

“I’m leaving,” Jungkook announced, and he scurried away from them and towards the sofa where Samuel and Hongbin were seated.

“Truth be told,” Jonghyun said, pulling his attention, “it’s been a little stale without you around here. You keep this place interesting, oddly enough, Jin.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not that interesting,” Jonghyun said, but he obviously didn’t mean it as an insult. “You’re really steady and dependable—reliable. You’re not someone who kind of brings chaos with him where he goes. So it’s a lot startling to realize you’re the reason this place is so fun half the time. Or exciting.”

“I will choose,” Seokjin told him, “to take all of that as a compliment.”

“Good. I mean it that way.” Jonghyun gave him a solid nod. “This place hasn’t been the same without you here. The atmosphere is different. The mood isn’t as high. We’ll all be glad when you’re back to work.”

Seokjin often tried to weigh all the components of the clinic together as equally important and valuable. He thought of every person who worked at the clinic as one small but integral cog needed to keep everything turning and moving.

But it was nice to be needed, and wanted, and appreciated. It was nice to hear Jonghyun say that his presence there, or lack thereof, was something others noticed and felt.

It was a boost to his confidence that he was doing something right.

“I’ll be glad, too,” Seokjin said honestly. “I’ve already read my way through a good deal of journals that I wanted to, and I’m starting to become incredibly bored with daytime television. There’s only so much laundry one can do, and only so many meals in a day to make. I need to feel useful soon, Jonghyun. And I only feel that way at the clinic.”

“Just last a little while longer,” Jonghyun chuckled. “We can survive without you here for a little bit, no problem. But the last thing anyone needs is for you to rush back and for the consequences to be bad. So just sit on your butt a little longer, annoy your brother, get your boyfriend to wait on you hand and foot, and know that the clinic will be here when it’s time.”

Jonghyun’s words about Namjoon were careless and easy, and Seokjin tried not to react poorly. Jonghyun didn’t need to know that Namjoon hadn’t been exactly warm to Seokjin lately. There was still such a great divide of distance between them, and uncertainty, and it felt like a wedge was starting to develop. Maybe the wedge was already there.

Seokjin’s head cocked towards him. “Not trying to usurp my position then?”

Jonghyun shook his head. “You’re already giving me fifty percent. Why would I want to take one hundred, and get stuck with all the boring stuff you do?”

“Fair point,” Seokjin laughed out, then he indulged in a little more curry and sat down near Jungkook to enjoy a meal with his colleagues and friends.

He hadn’t, however, come down to the clinic just because he was bored. Joy had been forwarding some of his more important emails to him directly, the kind that she couldn’t handle. And she’d sent him a warning that paper mail had been steadily building up from the very first day he’d been gone.

In an effort to not be completely overwhelmed when he came back, Seokjin had come to the clinic in part to sit in his office for about an hour, because Jungkook had warned that was all he was willing to allow—and Jungkook was proving to be a formidable watchdog when it came to Seokjin’s health, and go through his mail.

He didn’t have enough time to respond to anything, or even open much and read through it. But he could sort. Sorting took almost no physical effort, and it helped thin the pile a little.

Plus, he simply felt better being back in his clinic, which had been his second home for so long he barely thought of it as work. Just being in the building lifted a weight from his shoulders.

So he threw himself into the task of sorting after he’d finished his food, and worked as quickly and efficiently as he could, with Jonghyun moving around in the peripheral of his vision, but not distracting him.

“Your hour is up,” Jungkook announced later when the time must have come and gone. Seokjin could imagine his brother flirting around the clinic, being a lovable nuisance, getting in the way of practically everyone but constantly watching the time.

“Doubtful,” Seokjin said, slicing through a sealed envelope with an opener. He’d gotten his dreaded recertification letter, and while it wasn’t anything he’d wanted to see, he’d been expecting it for some time. Jonghyun had been required to recertify the year before, and Seokjin had been a doctor long enough for his name to come up.

It wasn’t as if he found recertification a ridiculous or unnecessary thing. On the contrary, he thought it kept doctors from getting complacent or lazy as they practiced medicine. And it was rather nice to think that there was a set standard for the bare minimum of information and skills a doctor needed to retain in order to keep seeing patients lawfully.

But it couldn’t have come at a worse time. Seokjin’s life was a bit in shambles now, or at least parts of it felt that way, and who knew what was bound to happen with Infinite. Yoongi had told him as recently as the day previous that they were still sorting their way through Exo members, looking for the person who’d double crossed them. But they weren’t even close to figuring out who it was, and that meant lingering uncertainty with Infinite.

Now Seokjin had notice that he was due to recertify, and that meant months of studying, or at least brushing up, and all of that was on top of the mounting pressures in his life.

“It’s definitely been an hour.” Jungkook waltzed into his office. “Don’t make me sit on you.”

Seokjin pulled the paper with the notice out of the envelope and commented, “We already decided there’s no way you would sit on me. Plus, I’m the older brother. I’m supposed to sit on you, if anyone is going to be doing sitting.”

“No way,” Jungkook scoffed. “I weigh more than you, so I get to squish you. It doesn’t matter who’s older.”

“Being fatter than me doesn’t immediately qualify you to do the sitting.”

Jungkook thumped a hand on Seokjin’s desk. “I’m all muscle! This is not fat. And muscle weighs more than fat anyway!”

Smiling a little, Seokjin looked up at his brother. “Just let me get through this last piece of mail and I’ll call it a day. Can you keep yourself entertained for that long? This is important.”

“What is it?” Jungkook asked.

“Recertification.” Seokjin waved the letter at him. “Of the medical kind.”

“Like, so you can keep being a doctor?”

“Legally,” Seokjin told him. “I’m sure plenty of people practice illegally. But I’d like this clinic to continue to be funded by the government, and that means when anyone on the payroll is due up for recertification, they have to go and pass.”

“Sucks,” Jungkook said absently, but then he gave Seokjin some peace and quiet to go about reading the information printed on the paper.

At least, Seokjin figured in an accepting way, he didn’t have to recertify until November. If the matter with Infinite wasn’t taken care of by then, Seokjin didn’t know if it ever would be.

Seokjin was jotting the information in the letter down on his paper planner, the physical planner he refused to give up and carted back and forth between his house, the clinic, and anywhere else, when Jungkook cleared his throat a little

Seokjin knew was an attention getting throat clear was, at least with Jungkook.

“What’s with the look on your face?” Seokjin asked, noticing the frown right away on Jungkook’s face.

“Um … well…” Jungkook trailed off awkwardly and Seokjin’s worry rose.

“What?” Seokjin prompted.

Leaning forward in the chair he was seated in, Jungkook rested his elbows on his knees and asked, “Like, this is really weird, and I dunno if I should even be involved, but … but Jin, are you and Rap Mon okay?”

The question hadn’t exactly been unexpected. In fact, Seokjin was more surprised that Jungkook had waited so long to ask it.  By now Namjoon had done exactly what he’d said he would to Jimin, and aired their dirty laundry out to everyone. Jimin had been practically a ghost, with Seokjin only catching sight of him once since then, and the other core members of the gang hadn’t really been able to hide the looks they sent his way.

Yoongi had remained ever resolute, not asking Seokjin about the details, or his side of the story, or broaching the topic at all. Yoongi simply seemed to accept what had happened, and wasn’t holding it against him or siding with him. Of course that didn’t mean Yoongi didn’t have an opinion on the matter, and Seokjin could hazard a guess that Yoongi was more than a little irritated or angry, but Yoongi hadn’t let it show. And Seokjin appreciated that.

Hoseok and Taehyung, on the other hand, were absolutely caught in the middle, openly conflicted, prying for information when they could, seemingly in disbelief of what had happened.

“I get it, you know,” Seokjin had said to Hoseok a day earlier, when he’d noticed the look he was getting from the other man. It was the look of Hoseok who wanted to ask about something, and there was only one subject floating between them all right now. “I get what I did. The trust I betrayed. The mess I made.”

“Jin,” Hoseok had tried.

Seokjin had pressed on, “And I’m sorry. Not just for what I did, but for the position I put you and Taehyung and Yoongi and Jungkook in. I’m sorry for dividing Bangtan in this way. It’s the one thing I swore I’d never do, and it’s the thing I did best.”

Hoseok hadn’t had much to say after that, but he’d looked more troubled than before.

“He didn’t break up with me,” Seokjin said candidly to Jungkook now at his question. He put an elbow up on the desk, leaned into it, and sighed. “And honestly? I don’t know why he didn’t.”

Jungkook’s forehead creased. “Because he loves you.”

“I know he does,” Seokjin agreed. “But at least for right now, he doesn’t trust me. And what kind of relationship can exist without trust?”

Not a healthy one, Seokjin knew. And if Namjoon was just clinging to him now out of familiarity and their history? That wasn’t a kind of love Seokjin wanted. He desperately didn’t want Namjoon to leave him. He’d never been more sure Namjoon was the person he wanted to grow old with. But he also couldn’t stomach the idea of letting love fester and wane between them, eroded by a lack of trust.

Jungkook surprised him by saying, “He’s been really quiet the past few days, Jin. And not just because of this Triad stuff. He’s been … sad? I think he’s been sad.”

And that crushed Seokjin. It crushed his heart. He was the one who’d done that to the man he loved. He was the one who’d made Namjoon, a caring, selfless, good man, sad.

“Jungkook,” Seokjin said, meeting his gaze. “Don’t be like me, okay? Don’t make the same mistakes I’ve made. Be better than me.”

“Jin?” Jungkook seemed nervous.

Seokjin wanted so much better for Jungkook, so he said, “Watch the mistakes I’ve made, and learn from them. Don’t do this to someone you love. Namjoon and I? We’re barely holding it together. I don’t even know if we can hold it together. And that’s my fault. I did this to us. I may have sabotaged the best relationship I’ve ever had in my life.”

Unable to help himself, Jungkook cracked out, “Aside from ours.”

Even Seokjin had to smile a little to say, “Of course, excluding ours.” He sobered then. “I mean it. I’m gonna fight tooth and nail to show Namjoon this was a one-time mistake. I’m going to do whatever it takes to make amends, and earn back his trust. But I want better for you than this. So look carefully, okay? Be better than me.”

For the most part, he wasn’t too worried about Jungkook. Jungkook was as good a person as they came. Jungkook wasn’t a liar. He wasn’t a deceiver. He was a good soul with a good heart. But if he could be an example for Jungkook, then it was one positive thing that might come out of it all.

“I could never be better than you,” Jungkook said, reeking of a tone that said he’d fight Seokjin on the topic.

Seokjin could have hugged him. Instead, he asked Jungkook, “I’m trying with Namjoon. I’m not giving up. But look after him a little, okay? Where ever you can. If he looks sad, just keep him company, or try and make him smile.”

Jungkook deflated in the chair. “This is so depressing.”

And this was the mess Seokjin knew he had created. Bangtan members doubting each other, at odds with each other, uncertain with each other. And all at the worst time possible.

He had to ask though, “How’s Jimin doing?”

“Dunno,” Jungkook said right away. “He hasn’t been home in days. I don’t know where he’s been, or what he’s been doing. I tried calling. I tried texting. Nothing. Suga knows, but he gets grumpy whenever anyone brings Jimin up. But I guess that’s better than Rap Mon who gets angry.”

Once more, Seokjin felt himself saying quietly, “I’m sorry.”

Jungkook, with his bright eyes and endearing nature, defended him from himself, declaring, “You made a mistake, Jin, but you didn’t do it on purpose. And you’re an amazingly good person. So stop apologizing. Things are gonna get better. That’s what you’re always saying.”

“Am I?” Seokjin asked, amused. “You certainly sound like me.”

Jungkook beamed, then added, “I mean, they can’t get worse, right?”

Jungkook let Seokjin take in those words, and then was quiet as his own thoughts overtook him.

Less than five minutes later, though, Jungkook was on his feet, prowling the office, clearly impatient.

“Jin?” Jungkook called out a bit faintly. “What’s this?”

“Hmm?” Seokjin set the letter aside completely as he finished adding the recertification to the electronic calendar on his computer so Joy could see the new event listing and make changes with his patients accordingly.

“Jin.”

This time Jungkook said his name a little more loudly.

“What?” Seokjin looked to where Jungkook was standing across the room, next to a shelf that was overloaded with books and reference manuals, and small items that he’d collected over the years. “What’s what?”

“This.” Jungkook held up a brown object. It took Seokjin a few seconds to recognize it as the package he’d gotten practically ages ago. “Who’s Kim Mikyung? And why is she sending you packages you’re not opening?” Jungkook tapped the process date the post office had stamped on it.

“Oh.” Seokjin stood. “I forgot all about that.” He gave a one shoulder shrug. “It was delivered ages ago. I meant to open it, and I forgot completely.” He’d asked Samuel to take it to his office when it had come in. That much he remembered. Samuel must have set it on the shelf, which caused Seokjin to forget all about it. He certainly wasn’t blaming Samuel, but where the kid had chosen to put it, had put it out of mind for Seokjin.

“Who’s Kim Mikyung?” Jungkook asked again.

“I don’t know,” Seokjin said honestly, rounding the desk to reach Jungkook. He took the package from him and looked it over once more. It still looked unassuming and obscenely normal. “At least it’s not a name I’m familiar with. But I guess I meet a lot of people every month, so it’s possible I just don’t remember who she is.”

Jungkook offered, “Maybe she’s a patient of yours? You said they try and give you presents all the time.”

“They used to,” Seokjin told him. “But that mostly happened when this clinic was a lot smaller and the clientele was smaller, too. Now it’s harder to have more personal relationships between staff and patients, but we do still encourage donations to be made from capable patients in the clinic’s name.”

Jungkook said, “Yeah, but it’s funnier and better when your patients just name their babies after you. How many are named Seokjin now? Five? Six?”

More than Seokjin would have liked. But he supposed names were intensely personal, and if mothers felt indebted to him, or simply thankful, and wanted to express that by naming their children after him, who was he to question that.

“Unimportant,” Seokjin dismissed. “But I can’t recall a Kim Mikyung I treated lately.”

Jungkook suggested, “Maybe it’s not another patient at all. You get presents from other doctors and hospitals from time to time, right? Trying to woo you away from the clinic. Maybe that’s what this is.”

“Sure,” Seokjin laughed out, “but when hospitals are courting, they’re usually a lot more overt.”

Seokjin rather liked the presents that floated his way from prestigious hospitals that wanted to tempt him away from the clinic to their payroll. Mostly because they were almost always gifts that benefited the clinic in some way.

But he thought by now it should be rather obvious that nothing was going to pry him away from the clinic. He was married to the clinic more than he’d probably ever be married to Namjoon. There was nothing in the world that would coerce or bribe him into going to work at another hospital. Not even the desire for better equipment, unique cases, or a bigger paycheck.

“Open it,” Jungkook urged.

Finding no reason not to, Seokjin took the package back to his desk and sat down in his chair. He placed the box on his desk and set about unwrapping the simple brown paper.

There was box underneath the paper, but a simple, uninspired one, the same as the paper. It gave nothing away either. But in a strange way, Seokjin was even more fascinated.

“What is it?” Jungkook demanded in an anxious way as Seokjin took the top off the box. “Jin? What is it?”

“It’s …” Seokjin frowned as he peered into the box.

Something silver shined back at him.

With a shaking hand, Seokjin reached into the box, and from it he pulled out a silver picture frame.

Confused, Jungkook asked, “Someone … sent you a picture?”

It wasn’t just a picture, Seokjin realized. He held the frame with two hands then, mouth feeling dry a he took in the two forms in the picture, and what it all meant.

“Jin?”

Jungkook was seeing the picture at an odd angle, Seokjin realized. He couldn’t tell who was really in the picture. And so Seokjin turned it more fully towards him, and then he waited for realization to dawn on Jungkook.

Seokjin saw it the moment it happened.

“Jin,” Jungkook said in a wary way. “Who sent you a picture of Kim Sunggyu?”

It was absolutely a picture of Sunggyu. Seokjin would have recognized his face anywhere. But more important of note was how old the picture was. Sunggyu looked like a teenager in the photo, practically baby faced, and years younger than he’d been when he’d died.

In fact, the Sunggyu in the picture was terribly adorable. No older than fourteen or fifteen, he was cute as a button, and absolutely reeked of innocence. It was the picture of a young, carefree kind of boy, one who probably still climbed trees, and cared about Pokémon cards, and snuck sodas after school even when adults lectured him about it.

And the photo of Sunggyu was a snapshot of him standing in front of a ramen shop, wearing shorts and a red shirt, with a baseball mit in hand.

“I don’t get it,” Jungkook said.

Sunggyu wasn’t alone in the picture, though. Standing slight to his side, so much shorter than him it was a good reflection of how young she was, was a small girl. A small girl with her hair done up in pigtails, and grin that showed lost baby teeth. She was wearing a shirt with a unicorn on the front, was pressed back against Sunggyu and was beaming at whoever was taking the picture.

There was such a striking facial resemblance that Seokjin knew this was Sunggyu’s little sister. This was the sister he’d killed himself to protect.

Someone had sent him a picture of a young Sunggyu and his sister.

His sister Mikyung?

“Who’d send something like this to you?” Jungkook asked. “Infinite?”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin let slip out.

He couldn’t help looking at Sunggyu’s picture and feeling charmed. Nothing could take back the things Sunggyu had done, and what he’d put them all through. But that wasn’t the same person in the picture. The picture wasn’t that of a damaged, angry, desperate man. It was the picture of a sweet looking, absolutely innocent boy.

It was a snapshot into the past. Of what and who Kim Sunggyu had been before the world had chewed him up, spit him out, and made him into what he’d become.

“Someone is playing with us,” Jungkook said, and his voice had a hint of something more dangerous to it. “Someone is playing with you. This is a fucking message, Jin. It’s a threat.”

“It doesn’t feel that way,” Seokjin said, ignoring Jungkook’s language. He turned the photo over, and on the back was a date penciled in faintly. It was almost invisible against the dark backing of the frame.

He didn’t know what it felt like, actually. He didn’t even know what it made him feel.

Jungkook tried again, “But okay, why would someone send you a picture of Sunggyu and some kid? What’s the message we’re missing here?”

Gently, Seokjin said, “I think this is his sister.” He glanced to Jungkook and asked, “Have you been keeping tabs on Sunggyu’s sister at all?” It had come out to everyone in Bangtan that Sunggyu had a sister, shortly after Sunggyu’s suicide. Namjoon hadn’t attempted to hide it then, but he’d also made it clear that regardless of whatever happened after that, she was utterly off limits.

“Not that I know of,” Jungkook said with certainty. “But I never got stuck with a job like that. Suga would know, though. He keeps track of that sort of thing. Collateral.”

Seokjin turned the picture right side up again. Who was sending him a picture of Sunggyu and his sister? And what was the point?

“I know where this is,” Jungkook said unexpectedly.

“Where what is?”

Jungkook’s finger came up to the ramen shop behind Sunggyu in the picture. “That’s a ramen place in Yongsan. I’ve been there.”

“And what exactly were you doing there?” Seokjin asked maybe a little too sharply, of his adult brother who could more than handle himself, walking through a rough neighborhood like Yongsan. But Yongsan had a terrible reputation as being as close to a slum as one could get in Seoul, and it was also a hotbed of illicit sexual depravity. If Seokjin ever wanted a cheap prostitute, that’s where he would go.

Jungkook said, “Hey, come on, Jin, I didn’t go down there to lose my virginity or anything. Believe it or not, there’s some really good food in Yongsan. Real home cooking. Some of the best food you can eat.”

Flatly, as if he was certain Jungkook was lying to him, he asked, “You went to Yongsan to eat?”

“Swear on my life,” Jungkook said, leaning back in a casual way. “That ramen place is pretty infamous down there, actually. Best food in the entire area, and dirt cheap. Ask V. We went together!”

Honestly, the inclusion of Taehyung in Jungkook’s explanation of being motivated by food, gave it real legitimacy.

Seokjin supposed in a way the location of the ramen shop, and therefore where the photo had been taken, gave a lot more context to Sunggyu as a person.

And suddenly Seokjin felt nothing but sympathy for Sunggyu. He felt heartbreak and heartache for the small, innocent boy in the photo he now held in his hands, who had been destroyed by Yongsan.

Sunggyu never stood a chance, and desperation had a funny way of manifesting itself in people. Particularly with Sunggyu, his desperation to save his sister from what had already happened to him, had manifested as Infinite.

“There’s no return address,” Jungkook observed, picking up the paper the picture had been wrapped in. “There’s no clue who sent it.”

Whoever had sent it, had wanted Seokjin to feel something. Maybe guilt. Maybe something else. But there’d been intent. Someone had wanted to remind Seokjin about who Kim Sunggyu was.

Forcing himself to do so, Seokjin set the frame down on his desk. And then after a moment more, he turned it face down. As much sympathy as he had for Sunggyu and what he’d endured, it felt like a slight to keep the picture in an upright position. It felt like he’d be disrespecting Bangtan in some way, and everything they’d sacrificed in particular for him, if he did that.

Sunggyu wasn’t the hero. He wasn’t some selfless martyr.

Sunggyu had been a sad, tragic story, but he hadn’t been a hero. And to many people, especially the one’s he’d murdered or allowed to be murdered, he was a villain. Everything was a matter of perspective, but feeling bad for someone didn’t erase what they’d done.

“It doesn’t matter who sent it,” Seokjin said to Jungkook. “I’ll get rid of it.”

Face pinched with worry, Jungkook insisted, “I think it’s a warning. I think someone is threatening you with this.”

“With a picture?”

Jungkook didn’t look nearly as willing to dismiss the notion as Seokjin would have liked. And his brother said pointedly, and not without merit, “A picture can say more than words, Jin.”

“It’s not a threat,” Seokjin said firmly, if only to calm Jungkook down. He couldn’t say one way or another what the picture meant. Not until he understood who had sent the picture and why. But getting worried himself would only worry Jungkook, and that wasn’t something Seokjin would ever willingly let happen.

“Jin,” Jungkook started.

Seokjin took the frame and put it in the box, after second thought, then put the lid on the box. “We’ll deal with this later,” Seokjin said. “Now, didn’t you come in here to bug me about something?”

Jungkook didn’t look like he wanted to be distracted from the topic of the photo, but Jungkook could be indulging sometimes, so he said, “Yeah, that your hour is up. You said you’d only work for an hour.”

Seokjin pointed out, “Nothing I did in here qualifies as work.”

Jungkook ribbed, “You think you have to deliver a baby for something to qualify as work.”

Seokjin gave back, “And you think just showing up qualifies as work.”

A grin split across Jungkook’s face. “How are we even related?”

“Don’t ask me,” Seokjin grinned back.

Jungkook nodded to the door. “Ready to go? I’ve got to get back to the university for a meetup about my project, and Rap Mon has me out tonight on the streets. You know he’s paranoid about that Triad mess, even though he and Suga got Suho calmed down for the most part. He’s also paranoid that Infinite is gonna pull something because they were even here in the first place.”

Seokjin hummed a little in acknowledgement.

If he could say anything about the mess with the Triad, it was that despite the trouble they’d caused by coming into town, even if they hadn’t meant to, they’d been more than willing to leave the second Namjoon had told them to. They'd split town days ago, without their desired meeting including Seokjin, but instead with a promise of it to come.

“They’ll get their summit,” Namjoon had told Seokjin. “And they’ll get you there if that’s their ultimatum. But not right now. Not until you’re cleared to go back to work. Not until we’re sure that ICD isn’t going to have any problems.”

Seokjin regretted telling Namjoon that most glitches or issues with a newly implanted ICDs occurred within the first month. Now it seemed like Namjoon was tensely awaiting something terrible to happen.

Nothing was going to happen, and Seokjin could have shown him statistics, and given him second and third opinions on the matter, and reassured him. But Seokjin was also giving him a wide berth as of late, and the last thing he wanted to do was argue with Namjoon in any way.

So the summit was postponed, and the Triad were out of town for the next few weeks, and everything was seemingly getting quiet again.

Except there was no such thing as quiet, Seokjin had learned. There was only silent chaos, and the quiet before the storm. Seokjin didn’t know which one was happening, but it was one or the other.

And the idea of Jungkook being out there, prowling around on the streets with that kind of tension just waiting to boil over, was under Seokjin’s skin like a bad itch.

“Just be careful,” Seokjin said, because there was nothing else to say. He couldn’t ask Jungkook to stay in, and it wasn’t fair to. “I’m serious.”

“Are you kidding?” Jungkook walked backwards to Seokjin’s door and said, “I know how serious this all was. I was there in the hospital with you and Myungsoo, if you’ll remember. This is serious enough that Myungsoo paid you a visit in person to threaten you. That means Infinite feels strong enough to start making power moves.”

Seokjin trailed after Jungkook, and when he reached him, he tugged a bit on Jungkook’s hair as he walked past him out into the hall. “Yes, I do distinctly remember you being there, thinking you’re Dirty Harry.”

Jungkook closed the door to Seokjin’s office behind him as he went, and asked, “Who’s Dirty Harry?”

“Believe it or not,” Seokjin said with a lowered voice, now that they were in the main hallway that led through the clinics first floor and people were passing around them, “It was dad’s favorite movie. It’s like an action-thriller movie. American made. And when he and mom were young, he took her to see it at the theater one day. She loved it, and that’s how he knew he loved her. At least that's what dad told me once."

“No way,” Jungkook breathed out.

“Way,” Seokjin countered. “I knew a lot of things like that about dad. And I remembered a lot of things mom told me from when I was little. Dad was kind of cool, believe it or not. Before mom died, and he became a workaholic, he was definitely cool.”

More than anything, Seokjin felt it was such a shame that their father had ended up so closed off, so cold, so bitter, and so angry. Because Seokjin had good, amazing memories of his childhood, and how his father used to be. When he’d been growing up, those memories had gotten him through some bad times.

“So Dirty Harry is a movie?”

“He’s the lead character in a movie,” Seokjin said, the both of them walking to the front of the clinic. “He’s a cop trying to track down a missing girl in San Francisco. Dad let me watch some of it once when I was a kid, and mom almost killed him for it when she found out. Let’s just say it’s not a kid’s movie.”

Jungkook chuckled in a pleased way, then suggested, “If we can get a copy, we should watch it.”

Seokjin waved to Joy up at the front as he told Jungkook, “It’s 2019 Jungkook. I think we can find a copy somewhere. I think that’s possible.”

“Sweet,” Jungkook said in a pleased way, a bounce in his step.

“Nice to see you’re so easy to please,” Seokjin laughed out.

“Watch a cool movie and hang out with my big brother?” Jungkook asked. “What more could I want?”

“Maybe something to eat,” Seokjin said, practically bursting with how much he loved Jungkook. He put his arm around his brother’s shoulders as they left the clinic. And anything that Seokjin had been feeling before, about the picture, about Namjoon, about the Triad, about anything, ceased to matter.

Maybe in a predictable manner, the only thing that mattered to Seokjin was his brother. And like every time before that he’d had that thought, that was perfectly fine with him.


	46. Chapter Forty-Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quickly, just one more time, the twitter for my writing is @DrJinsClinic so hit me up there for updates, general chatting, and just random rambling from me after I've had a couple drinks at some point.
> 
> Also, the final chapter count has been updated! We're in the home stretch.

It was a relief lifted from Seokjin’s shoulders, as he buttoned his shirt back up, to hear Minah remark, “I have to say, you’re progressing faster through your recovery that I’d expected.” Seokjin’s fingers worked on the button at the collar of the shirt he wore, and tried not to let his feet swing in joy as he heard her words.

He did have a smile for her, however, as she put away his latest test results. He caught her gaze over her shoulder and offered up with some mock outrage, “One would think you didn’t have any faith in me.”

Minah, flicking a tendril of hair over her shoulder, rounded a bit more fully on him to say flatly, “Oh, I know you too well, Jin. I’ve got faith in you as a person. I don’t have faith in your ability to sit in one place and not be active all the time. There’s a difference.” A lock of her hair fell back over her shoulder, and Seokjin laughed a bit at the frustrated motion she made to move it behind her head once more.

“What’s with the hair?” Seokjin asked, fussing with the cuffs next on his shirt. He’d experimented a bit with his wardrobe while he’d been out on leave, trying to find more casual clothing to wear each day. But in the end, he was just more comfortable with professional attire, even if the biggest event of the day was shopping for groceries, or checking the mail, or like now, coming by the hospital for a checkup.

“What’s with the hair,” she huffed out.

Seokjin pressed, “I haven’t seen it this long in a while.”

Minah was pretty notorious for chopping her hair short, much shorter than her shoulders, and pinning it back as much as possible. She’d had long, incredibly beautiful when they’d been little. Seokjin had even pulled on a ponytail a couple of times. But the older they’d gotten, the shorter Minah’s hair had been cut. And now she practically always wore it short, sometimes as short as her chin.

But it was longer now, longer than it had been in a long time, and Seokjin was noticing it. Minah wasn’t wearing it up like she typically was. This was the most relaxed she’d looked in a long time.

There was a pretty pink blush on her cheeks as she admitted, “Hyeri said she thinks my hair looks prettiest when it’s long.”

Kindly, Seokjin wondered, “And the moment your girlfriend said that, you were a goner?”

Minah gave a one shoulder shrug, a pleasant expression on her face. “Pretty much. You know how it goes.”

Seokjin indulged her, “Hyeri definitely has a way of making little things feel special. I’d probably grow my hair out if she told me she thought it would look pretty that way.”

Minah gave a laugh, and indulged, “I had breakfast with her this morning. We went to this little café near our apartment. They opened the patio because the weather has been so good, and it was really nice. Jin, I don’t even remember the last time I had breakfast with her in a way that wasn’t rushed. We sat on that patio, and soaked in the sun, and ate good food, and she ran her fingers through my hair. It was nice.”

“Sounds nice,” Seokjin agreed.

Minah and Hyeri were about as steady as couples came, and had been dating for the better part of five years now. When they got married, it was going to be something spectacular. But because Seokjin and Minah were so close, he knew her relationship with Hyeri was something that constantly took attention and care to maintain. They each had highly demanding careers, with Minah spending more time at the hospital than at her own home, and Hyeri writing for the local paper’s online division. They were the kind of couple that had to make time to see each other.

But Minah was desperately in love with Hyeri, so Seokjin had seen her carve out that time, and stretch herself thin to accommodate the different moving parts in their lives. It really was something astounding to watch.

“So,” Minah said, her voice a bit whimsical, “if Hyeri likes my hair long, I’m going to wear it long. At least for now.”

Finished dressing completely, Seokjin got to his feet and wandered to her side to ask, “So I’m cleared to leave then?” He’d been hoping that his tests would come back clean. He hadn’t had any noticeable issues with the ICD, and it had held up perfectly since it had gone in.

“You’re done here,” she agreed, but then she narrowed her eyes at him, “but I’m not clearing you to go back to work early.”

“Of course not.” Seokjin dipped his head. With any other doctor, he probably could have bullied his way into a note of some kind that would satisfy Jonghyun. With any other doctor he probably could have pulled rank, or asked for a favor, or gotten around the roadblock that was Bang Minah. But Minah was no pushover, especially to her friends.

Tucking Seokjin’s folder under one arm, she bumped him playfully and said, “You’re almost through the worst of it. Don’t have that look on your face, okay?”

“I’ll make it,” he assured her.

“Of course,” she pressed on, “only you would look at medical leave as something akin to a prison sentence.”

Seokjin didn’t think his medical leave felt quite that dramatic, but it was a cold, lonely thing in his opinion. He was home for most of the day now, after being used to a life and a career where such a thing rarely happened. He spent most of his time on his own these days, fulfilling menial tasks, without many people to talk to. Jungkook kept him company frequently enough, and Seokjin had gotten plenty of visits from Jonghyun and Taehyung and even Samuel who had started asking Seokjin to help him with the incoming curriculum for his upcoming semester. But most of the time it was Seokjin alone, in the apartment, with Namjoon’s words still echoing in the air all around.

“Invite me out to breakfast with you and Hyeri next time,” Seokjin suggested, walking with her to the door. They exited the room and headed down the hallway. “I feel like the only time I ever see you anymore is at a hospital. And I haven’t seen her in months.”

Minah arched an eyebrow. “Invite you to the little bit of private time I get with my girlfriend?”

When they got to the end of the hallway where the bank of elevators were, Miah reached out to press the call button, and Seokjin decided, “You’re right. I’ll just bypass you completely and take her out. Can she still eat her weight in rice?”

“More than your brother,” Minah confirmed with a laugh. “While you’re out with her, find out where she puts it all, will you? Five years and she’s still a medical mystery to me. The human body shouldn’t be able to hold the amount of rice she can eat.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened.

“How does lunch sound?” Minah called to him as he stepped in. “Tomorrow? I’m sure I can drag Hyeri away from her laptop if I promise her rice. And I have a surgery consult tomorrow, but it’s pretty early in the morning.”

Lunch with the two of them sounded great. Seokjin even thought he might be able to swing bringing someone like Jonghyun with him, or maybe even Kibum. The good thing about having such a small but tightknit group of friends was absolutely that they all were comfortable and friendly with each other. They all knew each other well.

“I’ll text you,” Seokjin said, leaning over to push the lobby button. “But right now, I have a different lunch date to make. Tell Hyeri hello for me.”

Minah had an amused smile on her face as the doors shut between them.

The moment he was alone in the elevator, something Seokjin was so, so thankful for in spite of the busy hospital, he let his posture droop. He was hoping, at least, that he had a lunch date. He’d sent out more than one reminder, and more than one request, but it was up in the air if he’d be joined at the restaurant, or if he’d end up eating alone.

Seokjin really hoped he didn’t end up eating alone. He was tired of the feeling.

He was able to make it across town in twenty minutes, which was quite good considering the time of day, and it almost felt like he’d rushed too much by the time he was seated at a table near the window. A look down at his phone told him he was ahead of schedule, and it probably meant he’d have a long wait before he found out if he was eating alone or not.

At least, he supposed, if he was going to end up alone, he was in a cute little restaurant with an underwater theme that specialized in seafood. The wallpaper featured whales and octopi and fish of every kind. And there was a sushi bar that was turning out some incredible looking dishes. It was a good atmosphere to be in, and he also had a great view of the street outside.

Maybe eating alone there wouldn’t be so lonely.

“How did I know you’d be here so early?”

Seokjin’s heart leapt a little at the sound of Jimin’s voice. And he could barely believe the sight that was Jimin sliding in the chair across from Seokjin with a rough look on his face.

The look didn’t matter, though. The only thing that matter was that Jimin had come. After not going home to his apartment for days, and worrying Jungkook, and not answering any of the messages Seokjin had sent him—despite the messages being marked as read, Seokjin hadn’t really thought too highly of the probability of Jimin showing up for the meal. Seokjin had invited him on a whim, hoping just to get to check on him, but the expectation had been low.

Even Yoongi had said, when Seokjin had asked him about Jimin after growing concerned, “He’s not really interested in other people right now, Jin.” Yoongi had been a little clipped with his tone, indicating right away to Seokjin that the subject was sore for Yoongi still. “He shows up where I tell him to. He does what I tell him to. But he’s not good company, and he’s not going to want to be around you for a while, I think.”

“I appreciate that you’re being honest with me,” Seokjin had replied right back, not taking the stern look on Yoongi’s face personally, “but I need to check in on him. I need to see him for myself. I need to talk to him.”

He hadn’t seen Jimin since the man had blown out of the apartment after their confrontation with Namjoon. And Seokjin was more than a little worried.

“You should focus on yourself,” Yoongi had said. “Leave Jimin to his own business.”

The thing was, Seokjin couldn’t. He felt like he couldn’t just stand idly by while Jimin closed himself off again. He couldn’t let Jimin rebuild the shell quickly that had taken Seokjin so long to break through.

So he’d started texting Jimin, bugging him, really. And then he’d invited him out to lunch, and nagged him about the date and time. No response had ever come, which was why Seokjin hadn’t know if he’d be eating alone or not, but Seokjin hadn’t let Jimin have more than a moment’s break from his pestering.

If there was one good thing about being home most of the day, it was that he had a lot of time to text Jimin.

“Punctuality is a reflection of character,” Seokjin said softly.

Jimin looked … he looked tired.

With pallid skin, and smudges of darkness under his eyes, Jimin looked like he hadn’t been sleeping much, if at all. And there was a lethargy to Jimin’s movement, too. There was a hesitancy and a self-consciousness that Seokjin hadn’t seen in a long time. Seokjin hated what he saw.

“Thank you for coming,” he added, sitting up straighter in his seat.

Jimin met his eyes briefly, before huffing out, “You probably wouldn’t have left me alone otherwise.”

Jimin was looking out the window, and when Seokjin followed his gaze, he could see several of Namjoon’s men across the street. They’d been there before Jimin had arrived, but now they were talking to each other with tensed shoulders. One of them was on the phone, too. Seokjin had gotten used to seeing them even more frequently than he had over the past six months. They were everywhere Seokjin was, now, proof of Namjoon’s growing worry. Or proof of Infinite’s growing boldness.

In any case, they followed him around like little puppies. Seokjin was trying to overlook them, but it wasn’t any easier now, than it had been before.

“It’s because of me.”

The roughness of Jimin’s voice started Seokjin. He looked sharply to Jimin and asked, “I’m sorry?”

“It’s because of me,” Jimin said again, voice rumbling with irritation. And in fact, Jimin looked ready to spring out of his chair in a second and bolt. “Because I’m here with you.”

Seokjin, terrified that it might happen, reached out suddenly to take hold of Jimin’s wrist that was resting up on the table. The move must have started Jimin because he practically leapt up into the air. But Seokjin held on tightly, and he didn’t flinch even when Jimin turned angry eyes on him and demanded, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t care about them,” Seokjin said firmly, as evenly as possible. “I don’t care about what Namjoon might think about this. This isn’t Bangtan’s time. This is mine. And I’m having lunch with a friend. I’m having lunch with someone I care about. So ignore them.”

“I can’t ignore them,” Jimin said plainly. He gave a vicious nod to the men across the street. “Because seeing them? That’s just another reminder of how badly I fucked up. Do you get that? You’re a remind of that fuckup.”

Seokjin’s mouth went dry, and maybe instinctively, maybe deliberately, Seokjin let go of Jimin’s wrist. His heart was beating a little harder in his chest then, and he hoped he didn’t sound so shaky as he eased out, “Oh. I …” He hadn’t thought of that.

And now he felt terrible for bringing Jimin out. He felt terrible for subjecting Jimin to whatever was occurring right now in his brain.

A waitress was making her way towards their table then, and Seokjin hurried to apologize to Jimin, “I’m sorry for being so thoughtless. I just … I just honestly wanted to have lunch with someone I think of as a good friend. Someone who I thought might be as lonely as I am.” Jimin tensed even further at his words, which mean Seokjin had been too true with them. “But if you want to go, you should go. I’d never try and make you stay here. I’d never want you to be uncomfortable. Go on, Jimin. Go if you want to.”

His words had gone soft at the end, and suddenly Seokjin just wanted to go himself.

He just couldn’t help rushing out, “But could you please call Jungkook and just talk to him? Maybe for a couple of minutes if you could? He’s really worried about you. You’re his roommate. You’re his friend. So please, could you call Jungkook and put him at ease? You know he has a kind heart and he worries. I don’t want him to worry.”

Seokjin hadn’t been trying to guilt Jimin into anything.

But the seconds ticked by, and Jimin didn’t move.

Then the waitress was there, and she was asking to take their order, and Jimin was telling Seokjin, “Just order for the both of us. You’re good at food.”

Good at food or not, Seokjin was so anxious and off kilter from the small exchange that had just happened between the two of them, he took whatever recommendation the waitress had for lunch, and ordered two. He just wasn’t sure if it was better or worse when she left to deliver their order to the kitchen.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Seokjin risked one last glance to the men out across the street, then told Jimin, “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Jimin fidgeted a little in his chair, and responded, “Isn’t that the point? Play keep away?”

In the restaurant there was a steady volume of pleasant conversation going on, and Seokjin took a moment to relish in it. There was a comfort and ease emanating from the other patrons.

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin said, when he did speak.

This clearly wasn’t what Jimin had been expecting to hear, and the look on his face echoed that.

Seokjin pressed on, “You and I made the decision to use the conference as a cover. You wanted to snoop around, and I wanted to help you. That’s something we take equal parts blame for, and we deserve everything Namjoon said to us.”

Jimin’s fingers clenched together.

“But,” Seokjin said, never more resolute, “I told you that I would be honest with Namjoon. I knew that you wanted to tell him, or at least have me tell him right away. But I was worried, and I was anxious, and I let cowardice get the best of me. I put it off until it was easy to forget.”

“Don’t do this,” Jimin ground out.

Seokjin ignored him. “I made it worse. That’s what I’m apologizing for. I took a bad situation, and I made it into a critical one. We could have managed the damage if I had come right out and been honest with Namjoon. People wouldn’t be in danger, if I had just …” If he’d just been willing to come clean. That was the bottom line. There was no getting around it, or lying about it, or being kind about the matter. “That’s my apology to you, Jimin, personally. I’m sorry for making this worse for you, and hurting you, all because I couldn’t be honest with Namjoon out of fear.”

Jimin’s hands disappeared from view then, under the table to his lap, but Seokjin could imagine they were twisting together anxiously. Nervously.

Jimin did meet his gaze then, though, and he admitted, “Rap Mon wasn’t wrong about anything he said to me. So it’s pointless for you to apologize to me. I went behind his back. I schemed with you to do it. And most importantly, I put you in danger. There’s no getting out of that truth, Jin. I took you into a situation that was dangerous, that could have gotten you hurt or killed. And nothing makes that better.”

“It’s not pointless,” Seokjin said, more aggressively than Jimin had probably expected by the way he flinched back. “I’m apologizing to you because you deserve an apology. I am sorry, and you can’t make me not be sorry for this. I made a mistake, and now I need to be responsible for that mistake.”

Jimin blew out a deep breath of air. “This is fucked.”

Seokjin didn’t comment on that. Instead, he said softly, “I really did just forget. But I made it easy to forget, and that’s the point here.”

Their drinks arrived after that, water for the both of them, and it wasn’t until after some of the ice had started to melt in the classes, causing condensation to build up on the glass, that Jimin said, “I really wasn’t thinking about you when I brought you into that situation.”

Streaking a finger down the side of the glass absently, Seokjin pushed slightly, “What were you thinking of?”

Jimin shrugged. “That I had a feeling in my gut. And proving that gut feeling right? That was more important than anything else, including your safety. Goddamnit, Jin. I didn’t even realize that until Rap Mon pointed it out. I put your safety second to my need to be right, and I was so blind I didn’t even see it.”

There was only a brief hesitation before Jimin was curling a bit into himself in his seat, muscles tensing up, arms crossing over his chest.

“It’s a hard thing, you know?” Seokjin offered, wondering how to direct the conversation from there.

“Huh?”

“To see the bigger picture when something is happening.” Seokjin didn’t know if the words would be a comfort or not, but they were all he had. “It’s hard to see things objectively. It’s hard to not get caught up in something when you feel so strongly about it. And hindsight … hindsight is everything.”

Jimin shook his head a little. “I deserve everything Rap Mon said to me. I’m sorry, Jin.” His eyes looked a little wet.

There was the soft boy Seokjin had seen before. The soft, emotional boy that Jimin had created a shell around years ago to protect. It was a relief to see him still in there, even if he’d taken another hit by what had happened.

“You know Namjoon still loves you, right?”

Jimin’s eyes widened at the words.

With a small smile on his face, Seokjin told Jimin, “What we did? There was a personal aspect, and Namjoon is very, very mad on that level. But mostly this was about Bangtan. About how what we did will effect Bangtan, and Exo, and Infinite, and even the Triad. His explosion of anger was based on fear of the situation spiraling out of control, and the people that could be hurt, and the war that could erupt. But him being rightfully mad at us, doesn’t mean he stops loving us.”

There was open, unabashed conflict on Jimin’s face. And something raw that made Seokjin’s stomach want to crawl up out of him.

“Jimin,” Seokjin said, feeling a little breathless, “you know Namjoon loves you, right?”

“I …” Jimin leaned far back in his chair.

Seokjin held his hand out on the table, palm up. “Jimin.”

Jimin eyed the hand like it was poisonous.

“Don’t act embarrassed,” Seokjin said bluntly. “No one is looking at us. No one cares. So hold my hand. Or I’ll get up and come around the table and hug you.”

“I’m not your brother,” Jimin warned. “You don’t get to pull this mushy—”

“That’s it,” Seokjin interrupted, starting to get to his feet. “I’m coming to hug you. And I might even kiss your forehead. That’s something everyone is going to pay attention to.”

Jimin’s hand shot out lightning fast to rest into Seokjin’s palm.

Seokjin curled his fingers around Jimin’s hand, and simply held on for a while.

“This is mortifying,” Jimin bemoaned.

“Jimin,” Seokjin said sternly, and he waited until he had Jimin’s full attention on him. Then, in a kind way, he said, “Namjoon is your brother. He’s your big brother and you know it. He’s someone who brought you into his family when you needed him, and relied on you.”

Jimin said back quickly, “He trusted me, and look where that got us.”

Seokjin squeezed his hand. “You think little brothers don’t make mistakes? I can personally attest to the ones Jungkook has made.”

A smile cracked on Jimin face then, just a small one, but it counted.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Seokjin insisted. “But we don’t stop loving people who make mistakes, even the big kind. Namjoon still loves you. You’re still his brother. And the dust is just settling. Give him time. Time dulls all pain. And maybe you will need to work to regain his trust. Maybe it will be a long time before he can look at you and not think about what happened. But the bottom line is, no matter what, he’ll never stop loving you.”

There was deep, deep sadness in Jimin’s eyes when Seokjin held his gaze, but he refused to back down from his words, or show any hesitancy in them.

“I’ll hold your hand forever if I have to,” Seokjin teased. “Until you say you believe me and you mean it.”

There was a slight trembling running from Jimin’s hand to Seokjin, and he had to stop to consider that maybe Jimin was just scared. Maybe Jimin had convinced himself that he’d lost everything when Namjoon had exploded.

And there wasn’t a lot of surprise when Jimin said, “He told everyone what I did. I was humiliated, Jin. And the way he looked at me. He … he…”

“He looked at you,” Seokjin said gently, “like he expected better from you. Because he did. He expected better from me, too. You let him down. But you are still his brother. He still loves you. And when the anger isn’t so close to the surface, you’ll see that. In the meanwhile, do better. Prove to him that you are trustworthy, and you can earn back what you lost. Because you can. But the one thing you don’t need to try and win back? His love. Because you never lost it.”

Namjoon wasn’t someone who shied away from his emotions, or failed to emote on a constant basis. Namjoon was often open and honest about how he felt about the members of Bangtan, in particular the core members. He’d often said, “They’re not just family, Jin. They’re my brothers.” And Seokjin had never once doubted the depth of which he meant those words.

“Have I ever lied to you before?” Seokjin asked. He tugged on Jimin’s hand.

Wordlessly, Jimin shook his head.

“Then believe me now.” Seokjin let his fingers relax from the grip he had on Jimin’s hand, and he drew back slowly. “The both of us need to earn trust back, not love.”

Jimin pursed his lips.

“Okay?” Seokjin prompted.

Jimin blew out a long breath of air, collapsing in on himself a little, before saying, “Okay.”

“Good.” Seokjin gave a firm nod. “Little brother.”

Jimin reached for his own glass of water, and proceeded to drain half of it before commenting, “Fuck, Jin, sometimes I think you’re the best brother in the world to have. Sometimes I’m sure you’re the worst.”

Seokjin absolutely took those words as compliments, and tried not to preen too much as Jimin acknowledged their relationship.

He leveled a finger up at Jimin and ordered, “And stop avoiding people with some self-ordered exile charade. Bring yourself by the clinic again. No, don’t interrupt me,” he could see the minute Jimin was going to. “I feel better having you around, and you being there gives the nurses a lot to gossip about, which believe it or not, raises morale.”

Jimin sputtered.

“Go home, too” Seokjin ordered after that, “to the apartment you share with Jungkook. I don’t know where you’ve been staying over the past few days, but go home. Sleep in your bed. Shower and eat in your own place. And watch over Jungkook for me. I’m counting on you to keep him from doing stupid things when I can’t be there to catch those things.”

The small smile on Jimin’s face grew a little bigger then. “That’s bold of you to assume I won’t be in on the stupid things.”

“Not bold,” Seokjin corrected, “desperate.”

Jimin gave a chuckle, and Seokjin felt better.

“Thank you for coming,” Seokjin said, watching their waitress drift over with their food. “Thank you for staying and listening to me talk.”

Jimin sat up properly when the food got there, and he remarked, “I kind figured if I tried to leave, you’d just come after me. You’re like that.”

Seokjin was almost completely distracted by how amazing the food looked when it got there, but he was able to focus just enough on Jimin to say, “My father hardwired that sort of thing in me. Never accept defeat, he’d say. Any situation can be turned in you favor if you’re clever enough.” Seokjin made a face at Jimin. “Come on, you’ve heard enough about him by now to know he was definitely like that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jimin agreed, and then they were digging into their meal.

They managed to make it at least another half hour, alternating between easy conversation and enjoyable silence, before Jimin looked a mixture of pensive and uncertainty, as if he had something to say.

But Jimin had been exceptionally forthcoming over the meal, allowing Seokjin to sneak past his defenses, so being patient was the least Seokjin thought he could do for Jimin.

And eventually, Jimin managed to ask, “So …Rap Mon. Namjoon. He’s … he’s being nice to you, right?”

The more diplomatic thing to do would have been to nod politely and offer reassurances. Seokjin burst out laughing instead.

“What!” Jimin demanded. “This isn’t funny. It’s valid!”

Seokjin got his laughter under control pretty fast, and with ample time to tell Jimin, “Of course he’s being nice. He loves me.”

Jimin fidgeted. “I mean, I thought so. I didn’t think he was hurting you or anything—I didn’t think for a second you’d let something like that happen. And he isn’t that kind of person anyway. But he was so mad. He’s still so mad. There’s a difference between him not being mean to you, and him not being kind. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

Seokjin leaned an elbow up on the table and put his chin in his palm to say in an amused way, “You’re like a baby duckling, you know? Kicking furiously under the water, trying to keep up with all the other ducklings.”

Jimin scowled.

“He’s not unkind,” Seokjin was sure to say. “But of course things have been awkward. Things have been rough. But they’ll get better, I hope. I have to hope.”

“You really are too nice,” Jimin said with a severe eye roll. “Like drag yourself into the real world with the rest of us, and ditch that Sunday morning kids show bullshit.”

“Watch your language,” Seokjin ordered, and he was close enough to each over and pinch Jimin.

Ambling to his feet, Jimin finished clumsily, “Just make sure he’s nice to you, okay. I’m not … I’m not gonna stand for someone being mean to my brother. Even my other brother.”

Seokjin watched him for a moment, then said one more time, “Namjoon loves you something fierce, Jimin. Regardless of how mad he is at you, you’re his family. He’d lay on a wire for you. He loves you. And so do I. Don’t ever let yourself forget that, or doubt it.”

Jimin announced, a faint blush on his cheeks, “I’m leaving now!” And took off at top speed.

Reaching for the bill to pay the tab, Seokjin shook his head slowly as he watched Jimin practically take off running out of the shop. Just this once, it seemed okay that Jimin was running from an emotion.

Because Seokjin’s life amounted to almost nothing at the moment, and because Seokjin was now completely banned from the clinic after getting caught trying to see a patient, there was only the option of going home. The weather was a little hot out so Seokjin didn’t want to go for a walk, and there wasn’t much else to do with errands for the day already completed.

Yet when he got home, and stood at the base of the stairs that led up to the second level apartment, Seokjin felt a thrill of excitement that he was still getting used to. In the past, taking the stairs had meant a slow, steady pace, sometimes accompanied by stops along the way. He’d always needed to be careful along the stairs, and half the time he went up them with Namjoon he’d have to listen to the man insist that they move immediately to another apartment without stairs.

The other half of the time Seokjin could find himself thrown over Namjoon’s broad shoulder and carried up.

But now?

Now Seokjin went up the stairs with ease, a bit out of breath from a lack of stamina, but with no strain to show from it. Something so simple as climbing stairs felt amazing, and Seokjin secretly hoped the cheap thrill never wore off.

When Seokjin got to the top, he nodded to the pair of Namjoon’s men who were on the landing, and was walking directly to the door when he heard one of them call out, “Doctor Kim?”

At his name, Seokjin turned back, maybe to toss either one of the men down the stairs if they had anything to say about his lunch with Jimin. And Seokjin wasn’t ignorant. Bangtan gossiped like they were in high school. There wasn’t anything that wasn’t spread between them like wildfire. Namjoon had probably known about the lunch within seconds of Jimin appearing, and certainly the rest of Bangtan had followed within minutes.

“Yes?” Seokjin asked.

But then beyond the two men Seokjin could see two more, and back down the landing, just on the peripheral, there were three more. There were more even further out. And the sight made Seokjin’s stomach drop. Had something happened?

“Hey, Doctor Kim,” the man said again, wincing a little. “The boss is in there.” He thumbed to the apartment.

Seokjin frowned. “Namjoon is home?”

Namjoon seemed to come home so little now, and it was especially shocking that he might be home during the day.

“Yeah.” The man’s head bobbed. “And he’s been in there a long time now. Well over an hour.”

The worry in Seokjin built further.

“Meeting?” Seokjin asked. He and Namjoon had previously had an iron clad rule about Bangtan business coming near their home. But things were tense and dangerous as of late, and Seokjin wasn’t going to begrudge Namjoon a meeting or two in their home if the situation called for it.

“He went in alone,” the man told Seokjin. “Could you check on him for us? None of us wanna go in there.” The two men nearest him shared a discreet look, and then the man added, “We know that’s your space, and we don’t wanna intrude.”

Face softening, Seokjin said gently, “Thank you.” Then he set off to figure out what Namjoon was doing home during the middle of the day.

The answer, simply enough, was sleeping. Namjoon was sleeping.

Seokjin found him in their bedroom, lying flat on his back in the middle of their bed, chest rising and falling evenly. But even in his sleep his face was streaked with tension and obvious tiredness, and Seokjin felt such guilt that not even then, could Namjoon escape the trouble bearing down on him. The trouble Seokjin had doubled overnight.

The thing was, Seokjin missed Namjoon. He missed his easy smiles, and lingering touches, and just the authenticity in Namjoon’s voice when he said he missed Seokjin even though they’d been apart for only a couple of hours. Seokjin missed that easy love, and wanted it back again.

He wanted Namjoon to hold him again because he wanted to, not out of habit.

With a sigh, Seokjin worked the buttons on his shirt, and slid it off. His pants went next, and when he was standing next to the bed in his underwear and undershirt, he had only a brief moment of hesitation before his mind was made up.

He fit easily against Namjoon’s side. He always had. And with Namjoon limp from sleep, Seokjin could press in close, and smell his aftershave, and run his fingers across Namjoon’s skin, and not have to be reminded in some way—any way, that he might have destroyed his future already.

Seokjin put his head on Namjoon’s shoulder and was tremendously thankful in that moment that for whatever reason, Namjoon had come home for a nap. He had come home to rest. Namjoon was hardly sleeping through the night again, this time nightmares replaced with worry and work.

Seokjin hadn’t been looking to take a nap of his own, merely wanting to enjoy cuddling Namjoon, but he fell asleep anyway.

And when he woke with a jerk, disoriented and a little panicked, it was Namjoon’s arm that guided Seokjin back down against him.

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin breathed out, a little short on air. “I was … I was dreaming.”

“About what?”

“Can’t remember,” Seokjin admitted. But it hadn’t felt good when he’d woken. It likely hadn’t been a pleasant dream.

“It’s okay,” Namjoon said with a slightly scratching voice. His fingers were pressing against Seokjin’s skin, not too hard, but not loosely, either. Occasionally Seokjin could feel his fingers twitch, and then they’d press in a little deeper before lightening again. It had taken ages to get Namjoon to handle him as if he wasn’t breakable, and he desperately hoped that didn’t change.

Seokjin wasn’t really sure what was happening in the bedroom, but it was something delicate. Something was perfect between them, so identical to what had been before, that Seokjin was afraid to breathe too heavily and ruin everything.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he told Namjoon. “I just wanted to lay down with you.”

Namjoon hummed a little.

And now, not sure if Namjoon had slept through Seokjin’s lunch date with Jimin, he found himself saying, “I had lunch with Jimin. I wanted to talk to him. I was worried.”

Namjoon’s fingers went deep again against Seokjin’s skin, just for a hair of a second, then they were stroking the skin in a steady, enjoyable way. Namjoon offered, “Suga said he’s been quiet. Distant. He’s worried. I’m worried, too.”

Seokjin hadn’t doubted what he’d told Jimin earlier, about how sure he was that Namjoon loved him and considered him family. But it was nice to hear admissions from Namjoon.

Tilting his head back a little, Seokjin met Namjoon’s gaze and said, “He was scared that he didn’t have a place in your life anymore. He was scared you didn’t want him anymore.”

And for Jimin, there was no worse thing in the world, than simply being discarded by the only family he knew now. The only family Jimi had let himself have.

Evenly, Namjoon asked Seokjin, their voices nothing but a whisper in the room, “What did you tell him?”

“The truth,” Seokjin replied. “That you were mad. And you had every right to be mad. And mad doesn’t just go away overnight. Mad is something that fades slowly, when it’s as severe as this kind is. But mad doesn’t mean a lack of love. And at the end of the day, you still love Jimin.”

Shifting a little, Namjoon’s fingers slid up Seokjin’s skin, to the base of his skull, to tangle loosely in his hair. His short nails rubbed more than scratched, and Seokjin felt himself going boneless.

“I regret it.”

Namjoon’s words were a mystery.

“Regret what?”

“Spreading our dirty business to the others.” Namjoon sat up a little then, leaning over Seokjin, looking ashamed. “What happened should have been dealt with better. I should have dealt with it better. I don’t regret what I said. I regret what I did.”

Seokjin was still fairly confused.

“Telling other people,” Namjoon added just a moment later. “Telling the details. Outside of Suga and J-Hope and V and Jungkook, no one else should have known the exact details of what had happened. And I shouldn’t have humiliated Jimin like that.”

“You—” Seokjin stared.

“No,” Namjoon interrupted. “Jimin is all kinds of fucked up in the head. I know this. I’ve known it from the start. You have to treat him a little different because of it. So saying what I said to him? And telling other people the details of what happened so they would question him? That. I regret that. I regret fucking him up a little more.”

Seokjin rolled into Namjoon then. He rolled into him as much as he could, hooking an arm around Namjoon’s back and holding onto him tightly.

“Jimin isn’t as delicate as you think. And after today, I think he has it through his head that people can be angry at him, and disappointed, and he can still be worthy of love.”

So, so softly, Namjoon said, “I love you.”

With their bodies twisted together, Seokjin replied, “I never doubted that, you know.”

Namjoon didn’t make a sound of acknowledgement.

“But this?” Seokjin continued. “Whatever is happening between us? Namjoon, I don’t know what to do about it. It feels horrible. The awkwardness is horrible. It makes my heart hurt.”

Namjoon startled viciously, jerking away from Seokjin like he’d been burned. “Are you okay?” Namjoon demanded roughly. He sat back on his butt, looking stunned.

Sitting up, Seokjin gave him a faint smile. “Not that kind of hurt.” He knocked his fingers over his heart. “This is fine, Namjoon. It’ll beat. But that’s not what I meant. My heart hurts in a different way. Things can’t just go back to the way they were. I understand that. I understand that as much as I understand now the severity of what I did. But this existing how we are now? It hurts. And I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

With eyes going wide, the last traces of sleep were gone from Namjoon’s face, and now he was just a pale, uncertain man looking back at Seokjin.

Gripping the blankets between his fingers, Seokjin asked plainly, “Can you forgive me one day? Maybe it isn’t fair to ask you this, at least not so soon after what happened, but I have to know. Because the both of us are more than old enough to know that a relationship can never work without trust. Love … love is so important. But trust? That’s a deal breaker.”

“Jin,” Namjoon said in a strangled way.

“I love you so much,” Seokjin said, unabashed by the emotion in his voice. “I want to marry you. I want to have children with you. I want to build that big house and have a yard for a dog, and grow old with you. But if I can’t have you look at me and trust that my word is what I say it is, and that I’m not keeping things from you, then I can’t have any of what I just said. Not with you. And if I can’t have it with you, I don’t want it with anyone else.”

This was it, Seokjin realized. This was a line in the sand that he hadn’t even realized was there until his toes had been nudging against it.

“I …” Seokjin was suddenly lacking confidence. He couldn’t read the expression on Namjoon’s face. “I will do everything in my power, Namjoon, to prove to you that what happened before, will never, under any circumstances, ever happen again. I’ll spend every day that I have on this earth, making up for breaking your trust and putting you, and your people, and lots of other people, in danger. But I need know it’s worth something. And if I work hard enough, and try long enough, one day I can have your trust.”

“Oh, Jin,” Namjoon breathed out, and a second later he was pushing Jin back on the bed and laying over him.

Namjoon’s body was a comforting weight on him, like a blanket. It was too much for Seokjin to roll away under, and the feeling of being pressed down into the mattress only felt like security. Namjoon would never hurt him, and so Seokjin avoided any sense of panic.

“I love you so much,” Namjoon breathed into his ear. His lips traced against Seokjin’s earlobe, and then they followed the curve of his jaw with deadly precision.

“This isn’t about love,” Seokjin pressed, his hands holding onto the light shirt Namjoon had fallen asleep in. “This is about trust.”

“No,” Namjoon denied, “this is about my dumbass not making sure you … you knew that when I love someone, I have to trust them. I can’t love people I don’t trust. And I very much love you more than the oxygen I’m breathing. More than the food you make. More than how you rub my back when I’m sore and tired. More than the smile you give me when I do something right. More than anything. More than anything at all, Jin. I was just mad when I said what I did. I was mad and I wanted to hurt you at the time.”

There were no words left in Seokjin at the moment.  There was only shock and disbelief and uncertainty.

“There’s still anger in me,” Namjoon confided. He oozed truth. “Sometimes I look at you and I just get so angry, because you betrayed me, Jin. You hurt me.”

Namjoon’s thumb swiped across Seokjin’s lips, and Seokjin was so dizzy he wasn’t sure what way was up anymore.

“But no matter what, I love you. And that means I forgive you. I can move past this. I will trust you again—I already do. Because I love you. And I trust the people I love.”

Namjoon leaned down to kiss him then, a proper kiss like they hadn’t shared in ages, and Seokjin burst into tears.

Numbly, Namjoon said, “That wasn’t the response I was expecting.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Seokjin managed between hitched breaths. He palmed at his eyes and said, “Things have just been so awkward between us. I thought they might never stop.”

Namjoon kissed him then, kissed him the way Seokjin always wanted to be kissed. He kissed Seokjin with delicacy and reverence and pure love, and it was all Seokjin could do not to dissolve into another round to tears.

He was so lost in his own head he barely heard Namjoon stutter out, “This is my fault, Jin. I’m so fucking sorry. This is all my fault.”

Getting the tears under control, Seokjin tried to pull Namjoon down even more on top of him. he almost wished Namjoon’s weight would crush the air out of his lungs.

“It’s not,” he said.

“It is,” Namjoon insisted. “I made things awkward. I was so ashamed that I yelled at you like that, and made you feel that way, that I just … I’ve just been trying to keep my distance.”

It was a little difficult, with Namjoon practically pancaking him, but Seokjin managed to get his hands up to cradle Namjoon’s face as he declared, “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“I do,” Namjoon insisted, peppering kisses to his mouth in utter devotion. “I was so ashamed that I yelled like that at the one person I love the most in this world. I didn’t mean to make it awkward. I could have gotten my point across without yelling, and a better man would have.”

They were just two big failures, Seokjin concluded, making assumptions about each other, misreading the situation.

“We’ll be okay,” Seokjin declared, leaning up to catch Namjoon’s mouth in a kiss of his own. “Me and you? We can be okay.”

“We can be better than okay,” Namjoon vowed.

Still a little shaken from how their talk had gone down, Seokjin found himself saying again, “I will never make a mistake like this ever again, Namjoon. Never. It was a lesson learned the hard way, and only learned once.”

“I know.” Namjoon nodded. “You didn’t hesitate to tell me about that package you got. You’ve only been completely honest with me since then. And so patient. Jin, I believe you.”

Seokjin hadn’t known how badly he needed to hear that, until he was crying again. But when Namjoon pressed his face into Seokjin’s neck, Seokjin could feel him crying, too.

“I love you,” Namjoon repeated, and Seokjin felt the words to his core.

Seokjin palmed the back of Namjoon’s head and looked up at the ceiling of the bedroom, trying to compose himself. It had been so long since Namjoon had held him like he was now. Or at least it felt like forever.

Namjoon asked, “Will you stay here with me, Jin? Just stay here and let me hold you for a while?”

Namjoon’s hair was silken between Seokjin’s fingers, and he remembered suddenly, “You have a lot of men outside, you know. I think you worried them coming in here for so long We should probably—”

Namjoon cut in, “I should probably lay here with the man I love for as long as he’ll let me. For as long as the world will let us. Yeah?”

For the first time in a long time, Seokjin’s heart felt light. And he said back confidently, “Yeah.”


End file.
